Populate [GA + Friendly Explorers] The Stars Between Us | GA Populate of Resource Hex

[Alicio Organa]

Deep Space, aboard the Benefacto
En Route to Tython
- Ashley Nevermore - Nathan Bloodscrawl - Open -​

This was far too coordinated for Alicio's liking.

Interdicted along their flightpath, dragged into mines, with a swarm of small fighters... this attack was designed to immobilize and harrass a cruiser. Which pirates were well known to avoid. His involvement had been top-secret, and no privateer in their right mind would assume he'd be in the weeds and set this trap for him...

If he had to guess... some enterprising crews had banded together to snatch a ship from the Alliance while they were spread thin pathfinding. And they would find more than they bargained for.

The Chancellor was glad to be joined by Phoenix Platoon. He knew them by reputation, and by their acts of valor throughout the Core Wars. He'd never met their fearless leader before, but she was quick to banter, so he supposed he could respond in kind.

"I don't." Alicio's eyes darted to the side, seeing something in the Future. His lip thinned into a tense smile. "Nor will you stop me. Only question is whether you're throwing yourself in with me or not."

Without even pausing a moment, Alicio dashed forward, joining the Kel Dor Phoenix at the front, as they entered the hangar.

A few Alliance fighters had been able to exit the hangar, doing all they could to keep the marauders off the Benefacto. But most had been stuck in place as the pirate ships pierced into the hangar bay. Each of their ships was thin, built like a needle, sticking into the durasteel like darts. Each deposited a handful of nasty-looking individuals, who immediately got to work sowing chaos, blasting sensitive equipment, and attempting to diffuse into the ship. Thankfully, they'd been stopped so far, but each passing moment, another fighter would arrow into the hangar, depositing a new handful of threats.

Despite any protestations, Alicio planted himself firmly in front of Dominos, his blue and black blade erupting from his hilt with dark intent. For only a moment, the lightsaber rested... too closely to his neck, before Alicio frowned, and lowered it, bursting into action, deflecting blaster bolts with a duelist's grace, and allowing the platoon behind him the cover to advance without worry.

"Lieutenant! They're trying to access the maintenance halls," the Chancellor said, pointing to an access hatch on the far side of the hangar between blocks. "Over there."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Azurine Varek | Thurion Heavenshield | Reina Daival

Cora let her hand fall from Azzie's shoulder. The young woman had been through much in her short life – too much, she thought. And yet, ordeals like the one she'd been subjected to were disturbingly common among the Jedi.

She had come back. Azurine had returned to them, to the Jedi. Perhaps not the same as before, perhaps not even whole, but she'd answered Ashla's call all the same.

"I am glad you're here," she whispered. "No matter where you are at in mind and body, we are with you."

Healing took time, but time could not heal everything. Corazona knew that well.

As the gentle giant rose and took Azzie's hand, Cora could not help the cordial tilt of her head. It was a gesture of deference to a Jedi Master, but it was also the motion of an aristocrat recognizing a King. When Thurion next knelt to the ground, he conjured great spires of white sand. When the surface of the moon began to tremble beneath her boots, Cora sank to the ground.

Back straight, legs crossed, she meditated.

Purification had become a well-honed sill of the Jedi Knight, but Ashla was something that demanded more. This was not just the cleansing of a corrupted celestial body, this was the reassembling of an ancient moon. The heart of the Light. A reforging of Tython's balance.

Master Heavenshield was right; this was a gargantuan task that would take their collaborative effort.

As Cora poured herself into the Force, contours of light glimmered from beneath her skin. They trickled down her cheeks in rivulets, over the turn of her jaw and down her neck. They disappeared beneath the navy swath of her tunic, and reappeared along the wrist and fingers of her flesh hand. The Force shifted, swelling with the combined concentration of the Jedi, and Cora bolstered the efforts of those around her.

I am here, her presence imparted in the Force. We are here. Ashla is here. We are one.

 

[Dracken Pryce]

Churba Sector - New Cov
Aboard CDF Swordbreaker​

"I've been down this route a hundred times!" Captain Morgan said sharply at the navigator. "We can't be more than a parsec off."

"Sir, the Convergence-"

"Convergence my ass! I'll be damned if I can't find my way down the Corellian Kriffing Run!"

The door to the bridge hissed open and Diktat Dracken Pryce strode through onto the deck, flanked by two Darksaber troopers in their black armor and faceless green visors. The Diktat was dressed like a naval officer of Corellia ready for battle. A blast vest was drapped over his crisp black uniform like a giant bib, his ranks displayed via holotag on his left breast. A general's pauldron of black and orange rested on his right shoulder and red Corellian Bloodstripes ran down his uniform pants. His hair, kept long in his old age, looked wild, tied back in a Jedi warrior's bun. It ran to his shoulders now, white as snow.

"Is there something wrong, Captain?"

Morgan cleared his throat, but didn't stand to salute. No one did on the Swordbreaker, save for the cold and ever-serious Darksabers.

"No sir. We were just having issues finding the old beacon. You know how it is with the Convergence and all-" Out of the corner of his eyes, Morgan saw his navigator roll her eyes. "B-but we will find it soon!"

Dracken nodded.

"Good. Finding where the Duros Space Run connects the Corellian Run and the Hydian Way is extremely important. I promised Hydia we'd reconnect the three, and Alliance vessels can't come out this far into Naboo space. Even if they could, they're spread thin as it is trying to repair the hyperlanes within Alliance space. Its up to us."

One of the Darksabers leaned close to the Diktat and whispered something, indicated by his helmet flashing. The words came out garbled, the scrambled Olys Corellisi unintelligible.

"Right..." The Diktat's face darkened. "I'll be in my office behind the command room. Let JESS know if you need me. I'll be in a meeting on Fondor. It sounded 'urgent'."

When the doors hissed shut behind the Diktat off to the side of the bridge, Morgan let out a sigh.

"Alright, show's over folks. Back to work. Someone get one of the mechanics on coms and make sure that tech we plugged in is working! This is taking too damn long. And someone get me connected with the Renegade! I wanna see if we can piggyback off their readings."

 

[Nathan Bloodscrawl]

Nathan had just finished blasting away the mines closest to hitting the ship, when he saw the boarding vessels and immediately switched gears in his GIE/LN, and began shooting and blasting them into oblivion, watching bodies fly off helpless into space. It wasn't long before he was targeted by enemy fighters, though his fighter's advanced defenses made it difficult to get a lock on him. He jerked the controls, performing a turning corkscrew and fired his plasma cannons at pursuing fighters, blasting them apart as he dodged and weaved through streams of return fire, sticking close to the hull and blasting away as many approaching mines and boarding ships as he could, in between frustrating the assaults of enemy squadrons.

Sometimes, he missed the Wild Knights Squadron. Being amongst them had been where he had really started to collect his thoughts and get some perspective on this new era. Part of him had been tempted to just disappear into the role of Fighter Pilot and forget the past.

But the hatred for the Cult of The Brain Demon, the trauma of Lysandra's demise and the need to avenge the destroyed soul of his wife, always drove him on.

The system reported someone had finally obtained a lock, he veered off when the Force told him to, only to find the enemy pilot has already veered off to avoid his target lock. An Ace. He tried to pursue, but the enemy fighter had backwards firing launch tubes and he barely managed to destroy them in time, veering away at the last possible second before the wave from the proton explosion could damage his craft. The Fighter was behind him suddenly.

Nathan spotted a large chunk of debris from a destroyed boarding ship and teleported it behind him.

The other fighter, caught by surprise, could not pull away in time and slammed right into it, exploding and killing the pilot instantly...

Nathan resumed targeting both mines and approaching boarding ships filled with people bent on making sure Alicio Organa and Ashley Nevermore had a bad day...


Dracken Pryce

 

[Caelan Valoren]

"I can imagine so," Caelan said with a nod. "I'm sure those who know of you are also somewhat wary given your history, as well. Probably makes getting to know people difficult."

Kastiel continued to try and reach for the alien, but Caelan kept him in his arms to make sure he couldn't reach. The kid probably wanted to glomp all over the alien's head. Understandably so. The shape of his dome was reminiscent of a lot of teething toys they had at home. Didn't mean it was appropriate, though. He didn't want his son, the Prince of the Kingdom of Devit, to be gnawing on the heads of foreign dignitaries. That wouldn't look very good.

The actions of the younger Rakata were certainly interesting, but given they were different species, he didn't mention the detritus the younger Rakata was letting fall to the ground. It would get cleaned up. Besides, he didn't know if that was normal in their culture or not and didn't want to be offensive.

"It was more of a 'what turns a Prince into a Jedi,' than a Jedi into a King. I was born into the royal family, my parents were killed by outsiders, I fled and trained as a Jedi so that when I returned, I would be strong enough to fight, and with the help of the Alliance and my fellow Jedi I was able to push the invaders out. So I guess you could say it was a matter of necessity."

Kastiel humphed and sat back, going back to playing with Caelan's beard since he couldn't reach the Rakata senator.

"Out of curiosity, what brings a Rakata senator to speak with the Jedi council?"

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 and Kastiel | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace), Prosthetic Left Arm

TAGS: B Bal Tal ​

 

[Everest Vale]

Outfit: Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bracelet, Earrings
Companion: Isari
Tag: Vera Noble

Eve adjusted her grip on her saber hilt. Still unlit. Still silent. For now.

They moved in tandem, Eve veering off around one side as Vera took the other, both angling toward the slope's natural rise. The Flesh Raiders were moving in a staggered line through the clearing below, unaware, for now. Their hulking forms hunched and gnarled, limbs heavier than nature meant them to be. She could feel their minds like oil slicks in the Force: fractured, hungry, twisted beyond reason.

Eve's footfalls were soft. Measured. Her breathing controlled. She let her senses bleed out into the trees, reading every step, every break in cover. When one of the Raiders lagged too far behind its pack, turning to sniff the air—

She struck.

Her saber hissed to life with a white snap-hiss, cleaving clean through the creature's side before it had a chance to scream. She caught it as it slumped, gently easing the bulk to the ground with a touch of the Force. No noise. No flare of panic. Just one less threat.

Another came into view ahead, and she darted between tree trunks, taking the slope's cover to her advantage. This one was armed. The sharp glint of a vibroblade flashed through the leaves. Eve crouched, waited for the rhythm of its steps. Then—

She lunged. The saber flashed. One stroke across the back of its knees, another to the chest. It hit the ground hard. She didn't linger.

Through the bond of battle, she could feel Vera nearby, a flicker of motion, the hum of energy. The Noble girl was holding her own, as she fully expected. Eve pressed forward again, melting into shadow and into rhythm.

One by one, they fell. The forest echoed with the hush of swift, necessary violence — the kind that protected. The kind that meant peace could take root again.

And in the stillness between strikes, Eve felt it: not fear, not hate... but a solemn kind of tranquillity.

 

[Azurine Varek]

Pieces Of One Whole

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

Azzie had never done something like this before. Back before her long stay in carbonite, she wouldn't have even thought it possible. She sat in the sand, her legs folded beneath her, fingers lightly pressed into the grainy white surface of the moon. Ashla's pain pulsed up through her palms—soft at first, like a ripple on water, then deeper, heavier, as if the moon remembered every fracture, every scar.

Just like her.

"We do this together, as is the Jedi way."

Thurion's hand had been warm and strong when it clasped hers, his words filled with conviction. She found herself giving it a soft squeeze like she used to with her grandfather when she was young. That should have comforted her. Instead, she felt that familiar pang—a hollow echo somewhere in her ribs. Do I even deserve to stand here?

The Force surged around her like a living tide, crashing through the space they all shared—Reina, Cora, Thurion, and others around she hadn't learned the names of—but when she reached for it, truly reached for it, it was like trying to catch mist. Her connection was there. Distant. Wispy. Barely clinging to her fingertips before slipping away again. Nothing like it had been most of her life, or how it had felt to stand in the moon's light on Tython the last she was here.

Why...?

She knew the answer, even if she didn't want to name it. The scars on her back itched faintly beneath her robes. Phantom pain. Or memory. The sigils Darth Carnifex had carved into her flesh still lingered beneath the surface. Old wounds layered over with a ritual mark by Kahlil Noble , a rune seared into her skin to cage the darkness, to suppress the corruption left behind. Even sealed, she knew it was there. Sleeping. A cold rot at the edge of her soul that had danced with the demons she carried long before.

She saw it still, tall, gnarled, obsidian black tree, ash falling from its twisted branches like snow. That image had burned itself into her mind. Ashla's broken body echoed that same despair now. A shattered moon.

Maybe I shouldn't have volunteered, should have told Master Valery Noble I'd work on the temple or something...

Even Cora's words, "We are with you", felt like kindness she hadn't earned. A flicker of guilt passed through her. She should've said something. Thanked her. But what would she even say? She looked toward Cora now, watching how the Force flowed through her like starlight made flesh. Even Reina, with her uncertainty and bristling edges, was connecting, her hands sunk into the sand like she belonged to it.

You came back from the void, didn't you?

Azzie had never been good at stillness, but she closed her eyes. Not to forget, but to remember and face it. The Force didn't flood into her. It didn't embrace her like an old friend, not yet. It didn't run from her, either.

A flicker. A thread. She grasped it with trembling focus. For a second, she felt the whispers in the back of her mind that reminded her of the Ukatis River. Unlike then, she couldn't quite make it out, but it was still there.

"I'm still here, dammit..."

The sand near her hand shivered, only slightly. It was nothing compared to Thurion's rising pillars or the glow that danced across Cora's skin. She would give it everything she had anyway, everything she could spare. Because if Ashla could be broken and still worthy of mending, maybe—just maybe—so could she.

Corazona von Ascania | Thurion Heavenshield | Reina Daival​

 

[Bal Tal]

Bal straightened his back to make it clear to the infant human that he was not to be used as a climbing post. Bal had a hard enough time with humans as it was, and he had no experience with their pups, either. Bal gave Raz's mess no mind - he was contained in the hover crib and adequately distracted. One of his assistants would ensure that any litter would be attended to later, and there was no point in interrupting their conversation.

"I suppose I can sympathize with your story, though I did not mean to conjure any painful memories. I appreciate your telling me the story. It is always nice to have...Perspective on the plights of others."

Bal looked up at the head of the Command Staff - which made it a spear, of course, but that was hardly the point. He didn't know how to use it either way.

"This is a Command Staff. Rakatan Generals would wield it to amplify their power and force armies of slaves to do their bidding through the Force, and it was used as a means of identifying commanders by their rank. Those who wielded them were considered the most powerful leaders in the Infinite Empire. It was suggested that perhaps, even without the power of a real Command Staff - this one is a powerless replica - that the Flesh Raiders might recognize it and come to heel. Given that Flesh Raiders are the descendants of modified Rakatans, their fate is of interest to me. I doubt it will work, but it's worth trying, anyway."

He looked back to Caelan Valoren and gave a half-shoulder shrug, "That, and there are a number of items I wish to discuss with the Council - permission to conduct archaeology on Tython of Rakatan artifacts, for one. I am also hoping to convince the Council to build a temple on Lehon, to help provide guidance to my people and those who are coming to live there. There is very little Rakatan culture left, and what we know of it is...Not worth preserving. Those of us who are left have very little identity of our own. Some of our ancestors were pirates, others lived at the bottom of Galactic society and did not even know the name of their own species. The only thing that binds us together now is our struggle against extinction. That kind of a struggle requires a lot of friends."

 

[Razh Sho]

Objective: 1
Subobjective: Secure Forge
Tags: Aris Noble B Bal Tal
Location: Tython Wilds, at the Foot of the Forge

Razh did not move at first. He stood as still as stone, rain tracing clean lines down the ridges of his cloak and lekku, listening. The cadence of the Flesh Raider tongue had grown less foreign in rhythm, if not yet in clarity. Moh-gawen. He had heard it more than once now. He repeated it softly under his breath — testing the sound, the weight of it. A title. A role. A rite.

Then his gaze flicked to the club — discarded. The spiked instrument thudded into the earth, and with it came a hush that rippled through the raiders like a held breath.

"Very well."

Razh unhooked his cloak. The movement was fluid, ceremonial almost — no bravado, no delay. It slipped from his shoulders like the last remnant of a different age, folding into itself as he set it aside on the grass. His saber remained at his belt, untouched. The moment didn't call for it. It wasn't about power. It was about understanding.

He stepped forward.

Two-Skull stood taller, broader — built like a creature hewn from tusks and old stone. His arm extended, fist out, the other behind his back. A gesture of challenge. Not to the death. A ritual. One Razh had seen echoed across hundreds of worlds: warriors testing one another not in malice, but in measure.

Good.
Better a contest of fists than fire.

Razh mirrored the posture precisely — left fist forward, right arm tucked respectfully behind. The motion was elegant, controlled, like every piece of him had been carved into exact readiness by years of practice. He tilted his chin upward just slightly, meeting Two-Skull's intense gaze with calm grey eyes.

And then — the strike came.

Fast. Brutally fast.

Two-Skull's fist shot forward like a piston, aimed squarely for Razh's head. But the Jedi was already shifting. His weight turned on the ball of his rear foot, upper body rotating just enough to slip the punch by a hair's breadth, the air between their faces disturbed by the sheer force of it.

Razh did not counter immediately. Instead, he stepped back, shoulders square, unfazed.

Then, his voice — low, dry, gravel-worn — offered the only reply needed.

"Again."

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Valery's hand lingered in his just a moment longer — not out of formality, but a shared understanding. Then, with a gentle squeeze, she turned and began walking toward the temple's tall arched exit, the light of late morning spilling across the stone floor in quiet pools of gold.

"Come on," she said with a smirk, motioning for him to follow. "Let's take a walk. This Temple might be yours to protect now, but it won't hurt to stretch your legs and reacquaint yourself with every inch of it."

The heavy wooden doors parted slowly as she stepped outside. The wind was crisp, carrying with it the scent of old soil and the first wildflowers of the season. Tython's highlands stretched around them in every direction — mountains in the distance, the tree line just beyond the Temple's ancient walls. It was quiet, but not empty. The land was starting to breathe again.

As they moved down the worn stone path that led into the garden courtyards, Valery glanced over to him.

"I've been meaning to bring it up with the Alliance," she said, her tone more thoughtful now. "Kashyyyk. We've had scouts charting parts of the system. The fires scarred it badly, but there are still untouched regions. Still Wookiees holding fast to what remains."

She paused, looking out toward the horizon.

"If we can return, I want to. Not just for the Order. For them. For what that place means to all of us." She glanced back at him with a warm, knowing look. "When the time comes, your help — your connection to them — is going to matter. A lot."

Valery turned her eyes forward again, wind stirring her dark hair.

"But first," she added with a smirk, "We finish rebuilding this one. One Temple at a time, hm, Warden?"

Caltin Vanagor ​

 

[Thurion Heavenshield]

T Y T H O N
A S H L A​

All around the gathered Jedi did the sands rise up in a gentle dance, each grain floating in perfect harmony with its brethren as the moon spirit was painstakingly reawakened at the behest of its disciples. As more and more joined the effort, Thurion felt the immense build-up of power reverberate throughout his entire being, igniting a fire long-thought extinguished by the cold of his homeworld. Opportunities to fully engulf himself in the power of the Force had become few and far between to the High King, but today presented the chance to put aside all worldly responsibilities in favour of the spiritual and the celestial.

"Be with me," he said once more, staring ahead at the seemingly impossible task. His head sunk, eyes closed.

Whispers in the dark.

A jumbled mess of half-recognised words and syllables gnawed at the back of his skull, becoming louder and clearer by the second. Ghostly whispers turned into words of comfort.

He felt a hand upon his shoulder, then another, and another. A dozen or more. Then, a gentle caress of his cheek from someone he loved very much. He smiled briefly, then sprung up from his kneeling position and thrust both hands forward. A deafening thunderclap erupted from Ashla's core as the moon was resuscitated, and the first pieces began to move into position.

Around him he witnessed the spirits of old comrades take shape once more, their likenesses untroubled by the march of time that had so etched itself upon his every feature. They bore robes and armour not of this century, and represented species from every corner of the galaxy, known or unknown, and each mimicked his outstretched arms, pouring what strength they yet possessed into the living.

"Rise, Ashla — Sister of Darkness! Rise, Ashla — Maiden of Light!"

The first piece was put in place, and to any bystander looking up from Tython it would seem as if time was reversed, with chunks of rock reassembling themselves and knitting themselves back together. It was taking its toll on him, but he was more determined than ever to risk it all for this one decisive act.

"Hallowed... be... thy... name!"

Corazona von Ascania Azurine Varek Reina Daival ​

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

RELIC OF A JEDI ON A RELIC OF A WORLD
TYTHON
AKAR KESH

Absolutely. Her request to walk around the grounds was easily accepted, not just because there might have been more to discuss, but it was a nice day, and any chance to walk around such a historic campus had to be jumped on. This is always such an enriching and fulfilling experience.

Getting a better view of the landscape with the healing that had begun brought an exhale of relief in the big man. Even if she had chose someone else as Warden, he would have been here, this was meaningful. Just looking around brought an appreciative smile to his face. He would be here as much as possible, regardless. So many stories of these grounds… so many stories we will yet tell. I can’t wait to witness them. The days of Tython being held hostage are finally over.

She mentioned Kashyyyk and how scouts were mapping. The current state of the planet was less than stellar, but better than he had hoped. That is good to hear, and you are absolutely correct, in due time the planet will return to her natural beauty. In due time, we still have to finish the work here. After all, why do something if you aren’t going to see it through to completion, right? He actually smiled brightly, it was a symbol of the future.

Looking off towards the west, towards a waterfall, he chuckled. Have I ever told you about the Shyyyo's Heart Tribe? Maybe he had told her, maybe she knew, but Caltin recounted the tale of his days as a young Knight, he and other had rescued a young Wookiee Clan from a Trandoshan Slaving party burning their Wroshyr tree. They were brought in, accepted as not only “heroes” but “family” and made a part of the tribe. Even showing her the brand on his shoulder of their crest. Caltin went on to tell her about when he came out of the ice and was brought to Kashyyyk, not only was the tribe around and thriving, but one of the elders, “Llabruf” was a youngling, and remembered being rescued by him. Thus he was welcomed once again.

They will be happy to have a home again, they are in hiding in several places around the galaxy. Though he was thinking of a generally sad moment, he looked forward from it in reverence. Sometimes you must revisit your failure to be restored.

Valery Noble • TAGS
[Text in Brackets is spoken on Comm-link] ~Like this is through the Force~​

 

[Ashley Nevermore]

Objective III
Tag: Alicio Organa
Phoenix Platoon ​

"I don't." Alicio's eyes darted to the side, seeing something in the Future. His lip thinned into a tense smile. "Nor will you stop me. Only question is whether you're throwing yourself in with me or not."

Part of her respected the gumption. Part of her feared for a court martial should the chancellor of the alliance catch a stray blaster bolt to the face.

But all she could do was her job. All she could do was pray that this didn't go sideways.

As they burst into the hanger, immediately Phoenix's Second Squad did what they did best. Open fire, and push. Rather than holding back, the squad rushed forward, led by the shortest member of the platoon, a squad little Balasor by the name of 'Shotgun', who was somehow also the fastest. Throwing herself at a pirate, she opened up with her scatterblaster, while the other four of the squad rushed forward into close range combat.

Ashley herself though, was immediately drawn to Alicio's warning, as she and Boxer opened fire on the pirate attempting to break into the maintenance hatch, firing a frag grenade into their midst, before rushing forward. Couldn't do any more damage than the pirates were doing, after all...

 

[Reina Daival]

Location: Moon of Ashla
Tags: Corazona von Ascania Azurine Varek Thurion Heavenshield
Lightsaber - Pequod
Leg - Anchor

How much could she be adding to this collaborative effort? Was she even helping? Her control over the Force when it came to moving earth, the ground wasn't adequate in her eyes. She was literally out of her element in this situation but that wouldn't stop her. Her concerns and inadequacies wouldn't cause her to hold others behind. Reina was fine with failing herself, to hold herself back from success, but she could not do the same to others. She couldn't fail the others around her. She wasn't alone. She did not have to bear the weight entirely on her shoulders, but she couldn't slack off either.

The small flame inside her heart had been growing in strength. In the warmth it radiated from her. What had been a flickering Light, ready to be blown out when she first joined the Jedi, was slowly but steadily becoming a Flame that could stand up against the wind. It could stand up against the cold and the Dark. It perhaps would never become the bright beacon she wanted it to be, that inspired others, but it was enough for her. It would convince her to keep going on as she pushed herself.​

"I'm still here, dammit..."

"You better still be here. I won't be able to pick up the slack for you."

It wasn't hard to hear Azurine in the moment. It was mostly quiet in the first place. Some might have thought that Reina was being combative, or aggressive against the Iridonian. Not understanding of her plight or what had happened to her, but in reality, Reina was admititng that she was nowhere near Azurine's level. That the Iridonian was far and above better than her. By all intents and purposes, from what Reina had heard about her, Azurine's light should have been snuffed out, but it was still there. Faint, yet it was still there. That's more than what Reina could admit. Reina could be stubborn, she could rage against the Darkness, but even she wasn't sure if she'd be able to survive what Azurine had went through. Not that she'd ever admit it openly.

With all that being said...Reina still tried to pick up the slack. She had to push herself out of her comfort zone and bear more weight than she normally would. Feeling more and more of the burden amidst her shoulders, as she started to grit her teeth. Sweat started to gently fall down her face as she pushed herself. It was a way of her for paying amends to how she had felt towards Azurine for a period of time. After the rescue mission to get the Iridonian back, Reina had to come to the terms that someone had died in her arms because of that rescue mission. For the longest time, she had held that against Azurine. She had saw it as the Iridonian's fault that the soldier had died...but the more she had reflected upon it, it was a choice to have been there. She couldn't hold that against the Iridonian.

So instead she held it against herself. Azurine was important to people who were important to Reina. She shouldn't have thought any less of the woman for what wasn't part of her control. Whilst no-one else knew how she felt, Reina still wanted to pay amends to it, and if it meant picking up some of the slack for Azurine, then she'd do so.​

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Loomi

Zaiya flushed a bit at the compliment about growing herself and maybe taking the trials too. "Oh I don't know... I don't feel ready yet. I often think I'm still trying to catch up. Still have so much to learn."

Nonetheless, as Loomi kept talking, the more Zaiya's skin began to shimmer with soft notes of bronze in empathy and silver flecked amber as Loomi spoke, her concern growing at the weight of her friend's words. She could feel Loomi's emotional struggle, and though she didn't fully understand it, Zaiya empathized deeply.

When Loomi's question came, Zaiya paused, the edges of her mottled spots shifting with a pulse of thoughtful amber glowing effects.

"If I found something powerful... something I didn't fully understand?" She considered it carefully.

"I'd study it first, learn as much as I could from the archives. If I couldn't figure it out on my own, I'd get someone who could offer a different perspective to help troubleshoot maybe even seek the help of a Knight or Master who specializes in it."

Her skin warmed with confirmation, the Lovalla giving a nod. "Because if it's that powerful and I didn't fully understand it, who knows what it could do? It's always safer to be cautious." She gave Loomi a soft smile. "It's all about balance and knowing when to ask for help."

The young woman gave a slight cant of her head, the long length of multicolored braids swaying as she walked and observed Loomi.

"Did you find something powerful that you don't understand?"

 

[Loomi]

Tython
Tags: Zaiya Ceti

Epo-1, Lushi​

"Did you find something powerful that you don't understand?"

"I... am not certain," Loomi admitted. "It's in regards to myself, though, so it isn't something I can change or unlearn. I believe it's more a matter of understanding the responsibility..."

Loomi's voice was different than it used to be. There was no stammering, and a little bit of the airiness was gone. There was a sort of maturity in her tone that was more reflective of someone who wasn't quite a child anymore. Her tone still carried some whimsy that was reflective of her positive attitude, but it would certainly be clear to anyone that a chapter in her life was no doubt coming to a close.

Even if she didn't fully recognize it.

"Golly, I didn't mean to drop that on you out of the blue," she laughed, her cheeks flushing up a little. "I suppose I was just curious if I was going in the right direction."

A warmer smile came to the Godoan's face, her antennae curling back as though to clear out of her face.

"It's okay that you still feel you need to learn more," Loomi assured her friend. "I think that's a good thing. There's a lot to learn, and we all learn differently. You aren't as behind as you think. That is something I can promise you."

Her good eye glanced back to the trail for a moment before she spoke again.

"We should do something together that isn't class or training," the young woman decided. "I've missed you guys..."

That would be good, she thought...

 

[Bal Tal]

"Again."

Two-Skull's eyes widened when his fist missed Razh Sho by just a hair. His lower lip hung loose, and he drooled a bit - an odd expression that was difficult to read.

But his chuckle was very clear.

"Fwah-dok!" he said, clearly delighted at the Jedi's show of skill. He held up both fists this time, swinging at the Jedi with both in, again, deceptively quick and well-aimed swings. Two-Skull was a brute of a fighter, but an experienced one; the callouses and scars on his face and body illustrated a long life of fighting and hunting. Self-defense, however, was clearly not one of the skills he'd picked up on, as he left himself open to counter-attacks. His anatomy clearly made up for his lack of finesse, given the number of scars he bore - that they all bore. The Flesh Raider with the spearhead in their shoulder seemed unbothered with their injury. In fact none of them seem to have given any of their recent injuries any more attention than a proper cleaning.

As Two-Skull was now throwing his weight, fists, and muscle into the fight, it had also gotten more interesting for the rest of Two-Skull's party. Something caught the attention of one of the smaller ones, who looked away from the fight and into the trees. He gestured to Aris Noble with his spear, and gestured for him to come.

"Moh-gawen nyaz Jed'aii ot Bah-Shi-Gan ak-ami shuk. Ahhh...To-ge-ter," the Flesh Raider said to the younger Jedi as he entered the forest. Despite the bulk and weight of these people, they knew the forest well and knew how to navigate quietly. They were backtracking along the route that this tribe had taken, to avoid duplicate tracks, until the Flesh Raider ducked into cover, gesturing for Aris to follow. They were now close enough to the Forge that Aris could see part of it through the trees. A different group of Flesh Raiders was walking through the path, arguing about something, and brandishing weapons excitedly.

"Mo-Ko-Nan," the Flesh Raider said with a whisper, "Ak-ami Bah-Shi-Gan. Jed'aii ot Mo-Ko-Nan raq cheeja."

They pointed to the top of the Forge they could see. Clearly, this other tribe were the occupants of the Forge, not the Bah-Shi-Gan.

 

[Razh Sho]

Objective: 1
Subobjective: Secure Forge
Tags: Aris Noble B Bal Tal
Location: Tython Wilds, at the Foot of the Forge

The fist swept past his ear, close enough that Razh felt the rush of displaced air and the heat of Two-Skull's skin. Fast. Too fast for a body so scarred and thunder-thick. But the Jedi did not lean back in awe. He stepped through it, letting his left shoulder drop, weight shifting cleanly under the arc.

Then came the second strike.

Two fists now, thrown with genuine joy, not bloodlust — but with force enough to break bone. Razh slipped low, pivoting on the ball of one foot, and brought his hand gently up — not to strike, but to tap Two-Skull's exposed forearm with two fingers. A gesture of teaching, not harm.

"You do not guard your center," he murmured, just loud enough for the chieftain to hear.

Two-Skull was laughing.

So Razh allowed himself a thin smile — not mockery, but recognition. The challenge was real. The pain would be, if he misstepped. But this was not about defeat or dominance. Not even about honor. It was about language. One that used bruises where others used words. He stepped back again, lowering his guard slightly, body angled in classic Makashi profile — but his tone, when he spoke again, was not that of a warrior.

"Good form, Bah-Shi-Gan. But too heavy on the second beat. You dance with your heels."

Another nod. And then he caught it — a whisper at the edge of awareness.

Not from the duel. From beyond.

His grey eyes flicked for a moment toward the trees — where Aris's signature faded slightly into distance. Not distress, but something sharper: tension. Purpose. As though the air itself was thinning where the young Padawan moved.

The Forge.

Still circling with Two-Skull, Razh gave no outward sign — only a measured exhale through his nose, and the tightening of his stance once more. The duel was not done. But the moment was shifting.

Razh stepped in — not with speed, but with timing.

Two-Skull's right arm came wide again, heavy with momentum. Razh's foot slid forward, inside the arc. His shoulder dipped, his palm opened, and—Tap. A short, precise strike with the edge of his hand against the inner elbow. Two-Skull's arm buckled with a grunt — not in pain, but in surprise. Before the second fist could follow, Razh pivoted, placed one hand flat against the chieftain's chest, and guided his weight backward with the Force.

Two-Skull landed hard, back in the mud, blinking up at the sky.

Razh said nothing.

He simply offered his hand.

 

[Bal Tal]

Two-Skull landed hard on his back, and blinked up at the canopy and sky.

The Jedi was so small! How did he do that?

Two-Skull let out another belly of laughter, and took the hand Razh Sho had offered. He set his other heel flat on the ground and pulled himself up without pulling the Jedi down with him. Razh held up their hands together.

"Moh-Gawen! Jed'aii ot Bah-Shi-gan!"

The Flesh Raiders all cheered, throwing their arms up in the air in celebration. Two-Skull picked up his club, and pointed down the trail from where the Flesh Raiders had first come.

"Jed'aii Moh-Gawen," Two-Skull pointed to the Twi'lek with his club, "Chief...Two-Tribe...to Hunt. Forge, cheeja Mo-Ko-Nan."

He set his club down, and punched at his palm with his fist, "Bah-Shi-Gan ot Jed'aii ak-ami Mo-Ko-Nan. Hunt Mo-Ko-nan...Tribe. Forge cheeja Jed'aii. Cheeja Bah-Shi-Gan."

The Flesh Raiders stepped aside on the path for Razh to go to the front of the warband. They were waiting to follow his lead. Two-Skull took up a position behind the Jedi Master. Razh had won, and Two-Skull would stand behind him, at his side. They all would, for this hunt.

 

[Caelan Valoren]

Caelan shook his head at the alien's apology.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "It's in the past now and something I've dealt with. It not longer troubles me the way it used to."

The Rakata went on to explain that what he was holding was a command staff, or, rather, a replica of one. It was a good thing he clarified or Caelan may have been inclined to confiscate it. Such devices were something that should not be allowed to exist in the galaxy. Anything that involved slavery, in his mind, should not exist. This was something that he, as a King, wouldn't tolerate, let alone as a Jedi Knight. There would never be slavery upon the world of Lazerian IV as long as he was in charge.

Though what he said made sense. The Flesh Eaters were an altered descendant of the Rakata. If they bowed to the original command staffs, maybe they would respond to the impression of one. Though he wasn't sure what the intention was behind that. So far as he knew, the Flesh Eater problems had been relatively minimal. But, he hadn't been there long, so he could be wrong.

As the senator continued, he nodded his head in understanding. The intention of setting up a temple on Lehon in order to serve his people made sense. If there were those among them that had the ability to utilize the Force they would want to teach them how to best handle that so they didn't fall into darkness, or turn out the way their ancestors had. Though he wasn't sure they had the resources to handle building another temple at the moment so likely it would have to wait until everything had settled on Tython.

"A noble cause, seeing to such matters. I can see why you came here, now. Perhaps we should look for the Grandmaster and she could provide further guidance for you? I know Master Valery Noble is around the temple somewhere."

Kastiel had focused back on pulling his father's beard so much that at least he wasn't annoying the senator and the senators family anymore. And Fate, for his part, had kept quiet, which was good. Caelan motioned with his free hand for the Senator to walk with him, and then started walking.

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace), Prosthetic Left Arm

TAGS: B Bal Tal ​