Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion Guv'nor | GA Dominion of Lialic

Objective 1 - Relief Arithmetic of Lialic
Lialic // Relief Camp // Open


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This was a change of pace. Camo's orders to help with the relief effort on Lialic were, in theory, much quieter than what he was used to. Unfortunately as was the case with these situations, there still needed to be a degree of safety and control for the Galactic Alliance, that was why he found himself on this godforsaken planet. People receiving aid were usually desperate and in these conditions everything was volatile, including the landscape.

Camo was tasked with keeping the supplies and relief workers safe, a role that at this moment in time seemed pointless. The people of Lialac seemed so downtrodden and obedient that Camo had taken to helping move the crates just to pass the time. A task that in this heat, even with his armour that was designed to protect him from the elements, was not an enjoyable task. This was especially the case when certain crates were not what they were supposed to be.

"Incredible" muttered Camo as he removed the lid of another to find weapons supplies as opposed to the medical supplies that should have been there. Shaking his head he moved the crate into a separate pile before opening the next to check it was correct, a task that shouldn't need doing but damned if he was carrying another incorrect case over to the relief agents and back again.

The sound of more supply drops invited Camo to do a quick sweep of the area and ensure everything was OK. It was. Part of him was hoping something interesting might have occurred to divert his attention away from shifting boxes.

"Oh well, back to the fun and games" he said continuing to check the supplies.
 
Objective 1 - Relief Arithmetic of Lialic
Lialic // Relief Camp //

Marae Tavlar Marae Tavlar // Serena Rylvin



Why was she here. Why was she assigned to this stupid show-face situation. Her disgruntlement mirrored Craig YNWA Craig YNWA 's frustrations.

Grumpy Gala manifested just in time to catch the tail end of the box mix-up situation, the green woman in fatigues (thank goodness not her commando armour) wiped her forehead where sweat was starting to collect. Wiping her palm on her hip, she crossed the distance quickly to the curly-haired brunette who was stressing under the weight of the unwanted box.

"Easy curly-top. A new load just landed." A thumb jut over her shoulder in the direction of the recently landed shuttle. "I'll take those droid parts, I'm about to take them over to ––" she glanced in the direction and found the crop-haired pilot peppily stepping down the landing ramp of the recently arrived shuttle. "Ah, you."

She offered a crooked, coercive grin and crinkled her fingers to goad the handover of the crate to her podsession. If Serena Rylvin was willing to relinquish the randomly assorted droid bits, she'd take it -- if only to levy it into the arms of the relief pilot.
 
Chancellor Emerita / Advisor of State
Adhira had anticipated a debate about the use of clones ever since the Infrastructure Committee assembled on Eclipse. During a closed session, the three members had discussed the usefulness of leftover clones in the construction of the new hyperlane along with various other projects throughout Alliance territory. The three Senators had yet to raise the proposition to Emmen, but this meeting seemed like a good time for them to test the waters. Unfortunately, Maou Maou seemed absent... understandably given his unfortunate encounter with the Jedi.​
The elder Senator from Balmorra was usually one of the first to speak in almost every debate, taking one fiery position or another. This evening, however, she remained seated for a very long time, watching carefully as the other Senators debated. She was surprised to see Emmen Tagge Emmen Tagge crumble so quickly on the notion of citizenship. Perhaps he could borrow her backbone sometime. Adhira smirked at the thought. He was a good man, a moral leader, but somehow seemed to be cowed so easily by special interests. It was the suspect claims from Kuat that finally brought her to her feet.​
Showtime, she thought smugly as her repulsor pod joined the fray.​
"The delegation of Balmorra seeks recognition," her voice finally boomed over the speakers, rousing her countless, nameless Centrist loyalists that lined the walls of the Senate. She inclined her head to Emmen before she began.​
"Honorable Senators, I rise today in support of the liberation of the clones that have been discovered on Lialic," she began, waiting for the echo of her own voice to dissipate before continuing, "this Alliance was founded with one of our principle rights being the freedom of all sentient life to determine their own destiny. Sentient rights are the cornerstone of this republic and it is our duty to defend them. That being said, I am deeply troubled by the entitlement that Kuat feels for reparation. If anything it is Kuat that should be paying reparations to these clones."
She turned her venomous gaze on Julius Loghain Julius Loghain and savored the sudden murmurs that erupted around the Senate Chamber.
"But let us not distract from the issue at hand. Clones have long been utilized by powerful galactic governments to supplement military forces, the Old Republic did so to disastrous effect. We must not repeat the mistakes of our past. I concur with the... former point of Chancellor Tagge that these clones should be given the chance to join our society... some have made the point that we cannot continuously support such large numbers of refugees. That is why I would propose we offer them all the opportunity to make a living for themselves as free citizens of the Alliance in addition to giving them paid jobs constructing the new hyperlane and various other infrastructure projects throughout the Alliance."
"They would not be supported by our taxes, they would be paid a fair wage for honest work as all citizens should be. And furthermore, Balmorra firmly rejects the claims of any planets on the lives of any clones. Slavery is outlawed in the Alliance and we would be remiss to reward their former masters."
"I yield the floor."
 
Staff Aide to the Chancellor
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Coruscant ll Galactic Senate ll Grand Convocation Chamber
Assist the Chancellor
Emmen Tagge Emmen Tagge ll Raona Cadera Raona Cadera ll Auteme Auteme ll Senators​
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Mina followed closely beside Emmen with Lisza on his other side and Auteme between them. The Senate Scribe was briefing the Chancellor on the prime issue facing the Senate for the session, but Mina only half-listened as she was coordinating the other members of staff who were currently readying the chamber for the Chancellor's arrival. "SG in position?" she said softly into her comm device as the three officers of the Senate stepped onto the podium with Auteme.

"Yes ma'am."

"Prepare to Ascend in 3... 2... 1..." the Chancellor's podium shifted slightly before it began to rise into the middle of the vast chamber. Mina adjusted the Alliance Emblem on her the lapel of her forest green robes just as the podium crested the opening in the ceiling. Then she removed the communication device from her ear and leaned over to the Chancellor. "Another consideration Emmen is that many of the worlds we have recently assimilated have made billions of credits in the cloning industry. The good news is Corporatists mostly deal in droids so we have a reliable vote there. This issue must be broached with caution." Aware of the camera droids that were now circling the podium, she stood at attention and watched serenely as the Chancellor called the chamber to order.

The debate itself went quite as expected from Mina's point of view. She was surprised when the Chancellor so readily backed away from citizenship for the clones, but she conceded that it was the most diplomatic decision. As anticipated, the corporatists advocated for the use of droids, discounting the usefulness of clones, to which she smirked at Emmen. Then it was Senator Chandra's turn to speak.

"Chandra is an avid opponent of slavery - publicly - and Centrists are almost guaranteed to follow her lead, but our office is aware of a plan by the Infrastructure Committee to use clones to supplement their construction proposals," Mina whispered discreetly to Emmen Tagge Emmen Tagge as Adhira was speaking. "The Committee has requested a meeting with you which I've scheduled for later this week. She's a reliable ally, but I would be wary of her motives."
 
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Lialic
Objective 1, Relief Arithmetic of Lialic
Actors: Errant Errant


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The night's heat was harsh, even at the crest of the mesa upon which the last surviving settlement of Lialic remained. Winds regularly carried heatwaves with temperatures that bordered on the inhospitable. The only thing standing between the settlement's citizens and a quick, scorching death was the settlement's thermal shielding system. Though it was faulty and much of the heat slipped past its perimeter, it made life a gruelling but survivable affair. It was evident the system required a major overhaul and the task of making sure it got one fell on Bernard and the volunteers assigned to him. Unpackaging and preparing the parts had taken them all night, installing the upgrades would likely run into the early morning hours. Sweat trickled down the side of Bernard's face as he applied the finishing touches to a new radial coupling matrix.

The temperature was unbearably hot. Bernard felt like an ice cube in a heated skillet. The arkanian had lived half his life on a frigid iceball where temperatures rarely even climbed up to the freezing point, Lialic was a veritable inferno in comparison. He bit back a sigh as he wiped away the sweat on his face with a damp rag. The relative coolness gave him a brief moment of relief. It had, perhaps, also not been a wise decision to hold on to the spacer jacket he'd become inseparable with after the encounter aboard the Embrace. The material had protected him from freezing in a blizzard once if it wasn't for the Jedi techniques he learned as a youngling, he was sure he would have long passed out from the heat. It was hard to keep up a steady appearance when it felt like your insides threatened to combust at any moment, but he continued working with the jacket on, preferring the added strain on his inner well of strength to displaying any outward sign of discomfort. He hoped the sight would somehow serve to inspire those around him to persevere.

In a way, he had succeeded. Though many legends floated around regarding the Jedi's almost superhuman abilities, actually witnessing the seemingly unshakable determination in person left a far more lasting impression. Some of the locals hadn't seen a Jedi in decades, others only heard of them in stories. Bernard's efforts had at least managed to restore some hope in their hearts. The members of the Galactic Alliance relief team, on the other hand, had almost unanimously agreed that Bernard was, quite certainly, crazy and had been looking out for any signs of heatstroke in their team leader. Now and then one of them would come up to the Jedi to offer some water or to check whether or not he'd passed out or just lost in concentration on some mental task.

The shift in the local's attitude was palpable in the Force. Distrust and cynicism had slowly faded, and Bernard could feel genuine good-will return to their disposition. The volunteers' work over the last few days and Bernard's uninterrupted display of perseverance throughout each night had sparked some small embers of hope for their future. That hope had, in turn, inspired the Jedi to work even harder, feeding into a cycle of reinforcement.

The final piece of the radial coupling matrix' central power unit snapped into place with a satisfying click. The last part of the upgraded thermal shield system was complete, and the volunteers were finally ready to commence its installation.

Relief about their progress gave him some respite as he attached the hydrospanner to his utility belt. With the upgraded shielding system, the scorching temperatures would finally abate to more arkanian-friendly levels. All that remained on the to-do list was going to each shield unit and installing the necessary upgrades directly. He set the radial coupling matrix into a crate, closed it, and began to lift the crate but was interrupted by an unfamiliar voice.

"Excuse me, you wouldn't happen to be Bernard, would you?"

He jumped a little when he turned to the stranger, not having expected a fully battle-ready Imperial to have snuck up on him so easily. He shook away the surprise and quickly scrambled to wipe away the sweat and grime on his face with his handkerchief to make himself at least a little presentable. His free hand he offered to the newcomer.

"Padawan of the New Jedi Order Bernard of Arca, at your service," he briefly glanced at the emblem on the Imperial's armour, "Ah, you're the New Imperial help we were expecting. Here, grab that toolkit and follow me," he nodded towards a small, worn box as he picked up the crate of parts.

Before he left, Bernard paused for a moment to make sure the newcomer was following him. When he was certain, he set out towards the edge of the mesa.
 

Serena Rylvin

Guest
S
Location | Relief camp on Lialic
Objective | 1: Provide relief and supplies for the people of Lialic
Tags: Gala Geert Gala Geert Craig YNWA Craig YNWA


Serena knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth, even if the horse in question had called her 'curly-top.' She gave a half-smirk to the other woman Gala Geert Gala Geert helping her out. "Here you go then, green girl, enjoy," she said, pushing the heavy box of droid parts into her waiting arms. Her muscles almost sang with relief as she hefted the crate over. She stepped back, wincing as she massaged the tops of her arms. Her skin was slick with sweat from the heat and exertion.

Go and train with the Jedi, they said. Learn about new, exciting and vibrant things. Find your inner peace. She knew she shouldn't complain too much, she was helping people. I just wish whoever was in charge woulda made it a whole lot easier.


Taking the other woman's advice, she marched over to the newly-arrived shuttle, boots trudging in the well-trod, ground-up and half-baked dirt. She moved to the cargo port, taking a look at one of the crate. It had the right stamp on it, but that could have meant anything. She wouldn't be surprised to open one of these food crates and see a holocron or two. Maybe a small fortune in illicitly obtained credits. She reached down, pulling and the clasps and lifting the lid until she saw...

Finally. Food. Packs of rations designed for refugees in desperate places. Dehydrated meal packets. Quickly stamped over with various symbols, repurposed from something or other... but there. There and good. This bode well for the other crates too. Serena looked around and caught sight of someone in a bulky-looking set of armor. Craig YNWA Craig YNWA

"Hey!" she called out, waving towards him. "You doing anything? Cause I could use some helping carrying this stuff back down there," she said, nodding towards the heaving main camp a little ways away. Already, Serena was grabbing a crate, grunting as she lifted it. Compared to him in his gear, her arms seemed kinda noodly and pathetic.

Reminder: actually do some real exercise once I'm off this planet.


"You alright in there?" she asked him, hoping he'd agree to help lift some of the crates. "Seriously, it must be a billion degrees in there."
 
Objective 1 - Relief Arithmetic of Lialic
Lialic // Relief Camp // Open
Tags //
Gala Geert Gala Geert Serena Rylvin

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Camo stood up as he heard the call from Serena Rylvin , he paused for a minute suppressing his natural reply of sarcasm, was I doing anything? he thought to himself, oh no, absolutely nothing, I often hang around relief camps organizing crates that a visually impaired oaf had labelled, for no the fun of it. He smiled.

"Yeah I can give you a hand, the ones on the right are all food, those on the left medical, ignore this pile unless you want to arm the citizens of this wonderful place" He smiled again, there was still a hint of exasperated sarcasm in his last statement but it wasn't directed at her.

"It's not too bad actually, just looks a bit bulky in places, thankfully it's got temperature regulators, part of the reason it is bulky actually" he paused for a moment as he picked up a few of the crates stacked on top of each other, "keeps me at a reasonable temperature normally but its in overdrive at the moment, I hope this thermal shield system is up and running soon though, it would make things a bit easier"

Camo stood waiting patiently for the padawan to choose the crate (or crates) she was going to be carrying back with them, it amazed him with all the technology they had in life that they were reduced to hand balling crates from one area to another, although he assumed the haulage machines they did have just wouldn't work in this temperature.

"Ready?" he asked, not waiting for a response as he started to walking towards their destination.
 
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// WASP //
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Objective 2 // No Time for Lunch //
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Focus // Gala Geert Gala Geert | Serena Rylvin | Camo Orerig Camo Orerig




Marae had a habit of unfortunate timing, her searches for something cold and refreshing having, unfortunately, led her into the danger zone that was the world of crates not labelled "Droid Parts". The pilot had hoped to avoid any heavy lifting, preferring instead to have the ship take care of all that hard work for her. She was a pilot, ships were her thing, not manual labour.

"Ah me?" Was all that Marae could respond with before the transfer of the heavy box of droid parts between Gala Geert Gala Geert and Serena Rylvin had somehow managed to land in her arms, the smile on the face of her manipulator doing little to prepare the Dantooinian aside from instinctively put her arms out to hold the crate. As could be expected of one unprepared to take such a load, knees began to buckle heavily before she was able to straighten out. Relatively speaking.

The green one seemed to have had a much less difficult time handing it to her.

"Ah." Resignation to her fate was the first response she would offer Gala, paired exceptionally with a dry smile. "That checks out I s'pose." Hefting the box up a little bit more, at least enough to rest one of her arms under it to even out the weight. "Any idea where I'm bringing this one, love?" Hazel eyes darting around for a giant flag that says "put droid parts here", but if the Galactic Alliance knew how to label them they wouldn't be in this situation. "Preferably somewhere with something cold."

Hopefully, the green gal would help Marae find her way around, but even if she didn't the pilot would lug the box somewhere.

"I'll take it if you aren't using it." The request came through grunts as Marae passed Serena Rylvin and Camo Orerig Camo Orerig . "This jacket is hotter than it looks."
 
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// VIDAGE //
// Relief Arithmetic of Lilac //
// Allyson Locke Allyson Locke | Open //

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Zaavik's face gleamed softly in the light. The thin sheet of perspiration that coated his visage acted almost like a musty polish. The leftover spots of grease on his face from the last machine he crawled into during this relief effort started to run ever so slightly. He was hanging upsidedown beneath the open undercarriage of a massive air-purifier. The back of his knees tucked over one of the durasteel bracings that usually kept the now-removed maintenance cover over the inner workings. Reaching back he tied his violet locks with a tie he'd borrowed from Allyson. With a grunt, he curled upwards and slid into the bowels of the machine. He felt around as he squirmed, leaning his back against another durasteel brace.

He reached into his belt and unfastened his servodriver. With a sequence of loud whirring noises, each of the bolts that held a secondary panel in place were removed. He sat each of the bolts down on the upper surface of the partition across from him. He reached up to remove the secondary panel, only to be met with a sharp burning sensation when it was half-way removed. Despite the fact that he'd long ago lost most of the surface-feeling in his hands, coupled with already present heat tolerance, the panel was hot enough for him to pull his hands away. "Foito!" he cursed in his native tongue as the panel slipped through the narrow ally he'd crawled into, out of the purifier, and slammed into the floor below startling the Gran that stood below.

The Gran individual called up angrily to Zaavik. He didn't speak more than the bare minimum of the language, but he knew enough to get the gist of the Gran's scolding and imploring to be careful. He removed his fingers from his mouth where they'd retreated, the natural reaction most would have after burning themselves. Wriggling more, he slid further up into the machine past where the panel had been. His back now totally straight, legs straining to keep him up while still hooked around the bracing. Why was the panel so hot? They'd claimed the purifier had been down for almost a month, so that heat didn't make any sense, at least not initially.

Zaavik slowly scanned what parts and mechanisms surrounded him. The small fluorescent light of the flashlight that was strapped around his forehead illuminating the steel reliefs and wires. He was always good at fixing things, even when he was a kid. The cartels and militias of Zeltros all those years ago were always needing things fixed cheap and under the radar. They could have just used droids, of course, but even cheap droids cost credits. Street kids, though, were free with the added bonus of being able to fit into small places. No one ever had to teach him anything, he could always just feel where and what the problems were somehow. 'Kid's a natural,' was how they used to justify it. He could still hear all the other kids mocking and making fun of him for coming back home to his alley with grease all over his face. 'Zaavik's a Pit Droid! Beep boop!'

Speaking of pit droids; that was the first thing Zaavik saw when following his feelings down across the metallic scapes of the inner-purifier. It'd gotten caught in rotors that ran one of the compressor fans. "Found your droid," Zaavik called to the Gran from above. With one hand he yanked the mangled droid from where it was caught and tossed it down to the floor. Almost immediately, the rotors fired up with a rumble. A coughing sputter sounded from somewhere deeper within the machine, sending dust and soot right into Zaaviks face. He coughed and waved his hand in front of his face to fat the particulates away. The Gran was still shouting from down below, clearly upset about the droid. "Don't worry about the droid, we'll fix that too. You really shouldn't let pit droids into a running machine though."

The rotors finally died down with a low hum. It was clear that the droid being caught in those rotors was far from the heart of the problem, but probably the nail that made it quit altogether. Following the allure of his feelings once again he turned to one of the residual heatsinks. It was caked in dust, and not just from the rotors regurgitating it, either. Explains why everything else in here was so hot. The purifier was running, generating internal heat, but parts weren't moving and the heatsinks were getting overloaded. He placed his hand on a heat routing coil; it was colder than the rest of the interior. The housing case had gone completely inert as well. There were probably a hundred different problems going on with this thing all at once. Zaavik doubted he'd even scratched the surface.

With a firm yank, he dislodged the routing coil, housing and all. A loud twang sounded as a small copper coolant pipe busted along with it. Zaavik reached back to his belt for some bonding tape, unraveling a piece with just his teeth and wrapping it over the pipe break. He slid downwards out of the machine and hung upside down before the Gran. His face was blackened by the soot and dust that had assaulted him earlier. "When's the last time you changed the plex filter, or any filter for that matter?" he asked before tossing the Gran the routing coil and bringing a rag to his face. The Gand panicked, juggling the apparently hot routing coil between each hand. Oh. Chalk that one up to the tolerance, must not have been as hot as the panel. He pulled it back to his hand with the force and tossed it aside.

The Gran, starting to lose his patience once again began to shout in its mostly unintelligible grunts and honks. "What do you mean never!?" Zaavik shouted in disbelief. Wide and accusative hand gestures from the Gran accompanied its goat-like shouting. Zaavik only understood something about him being a bastard, but most of it was meaningless mumbo jumbo to him. "Keetar freg!" he shouted accusatively, once again cursing in his own language. The two began to argue incessantly, shouting expletives at one another in their respective native tongues.
 
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Senate Building // Grand Convocation Chamber
Obj III - Imperial Remnants & Where to Find Them

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If only it was acceptable for the Chancellor to pinch at the bridge of his nose in frustration while listening to some of the words being exchanged across the Convocation Chamber. It was time to intervene.

"The Podium claims the floor," Emmen announces, pausing to allow for the lingering chatter to dissipate. The Chancellor's eyes lock on the repulsorpod carrying the delegation of Kuat, leering toward the vaguely discernible figure of the Lord-Regent, "Senator Loghain; you accuse these clones of lacking free will, yet this remains unconfirmed. Regardless of your personal opinion of the notion, if the Senate moves to bestow rights upon these Clones, the Kuati government will be expected to comply. If they do not," he chews on the words, as if they were almost too sour to speak, "then you will suffer no impact. However, if it is in fact the lives of your own people that concern you with this issue, Senator Loghain, then there are alternative options for the mass-production of perfectly capable combatants."

"On the subject of free will, there is no blanket statement for all cloned entities. Some are created with a defined and engrained purpose, yes, but others are not. A psychological evaluation -- as suggested by the delegation of Kalist, can determine this. If they are found to be irreparably altered, then perhaps they'd be nothing more than organic droids. In that particular case, the clones would not be sapient beings and therefore would not apply to the matters being discussed today. But, if these clones are found to possess free will, we would be no better than the Sith Empire if we were to force them into servitude on our front lines or in our factories."

Emmen sighs, "If this is the case, it is not unreasonable for financial compensation to be issued to the government of Kuat considering the purchase had been made before the establishment of any law barring production and sale."

The Tepasi's tired eyes then move from Loghain to the Senator of Byss, "Senator Ardinn. How can you stand before the Podium and Senate and state that you are willing to grant free will to your clones while refusing to free them of conscription? Forgive me, Senator, but what great threat is Byss facing that has you so desperate for manpower that you'd support the subjugation of Alliance citizens?"

He scoffs away from his microphone, casting a frustrated glance toward Mina Praji Mina Praji and Raona Cadera Raona Cadera , "Once again, as stated by Senator Gunray, I argue that the production of droid combatants is far more cost effective and ethical. I yield the floor for a guest speaker."

The voice of the young kiffar pilot, Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt , catches him by surprise. He hadn't quite known what he to expect, but this was not it. As she introduces herself, Emmen glances down his his viewscreen to quickly perusing her file.

A clone in the flesh, and a Jedi and officer within the Defense Force to boot. A pinnacle example.

"The Podium reclaims the floor. Thank you, Cpt. Matson, for taking the time to voice your first-hand experiences," the Chancellor looks out to address the masses again, "as you can see, honourable members, clones may exist among us without us even knowing. Some, like Cpt. Matson, fight for us -- not because they're forced or programmed to, because they want to. Because they believe in what we stand for. I urge the Senate to consider this when making their decision. This ban would not prohibit cloning outright. There are many undeniably positive applications of this technology that greatly improve quality of life. It would only see a ban on the cloning of sentient beings, and the production of clones bearing the likeness of sentient beings."

He clasps his hands together as he comes to a conclusion of his intervention, "There are precautions that must be taken. That much we can all agree on. But we must put every effort into ensuring this Alliance stands against the enslavement of all forms of sentience. The floor is open."

Stepping back to yield the floor, Praji's comment catches Emmen off guard. Despite his surprise, he looks back to his Staff Aide with any discernible expression lacking, speaking away from his microphone "Utilizing clones for forced labour? Let's hope this bill passes and silences such discussions before they start."
 
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Ah, yes, of course. His arch-nemesis, the Senator of Balmorra, once more makes an appearance. Not much of an emotional man, Julius would've lied if he didn't secretly wish her all the worst. The Chancellor, as always torn between the waves of centrists vs. populists, once more had a hard time steering this ship. It won't be long enough till hypertension sent him to an early grave. A poor man in his late fifties but with the appearance of a centenarian Sith Lord.

"Good for Captain Matson. I am sure we all thank her for her service but it is foolish to believe that all clones are genetically designed with free will without any failsafes in place. Especially in the case of the clones on Lialic which were produced by the nefarious Core Imperial Confederation. Honorable Senators and Honorable Chancellor, I present you the Contingency Orders for his Majesty's Royal Military." the orders lit to life in front of the screens of each senator. "It would be not only foolish to accept the clones on Lialic as anything as free as Captain Matson but also incredibly dangerous. While these contingency orders do not specifically present any potential security risks, it is only natural to expect further altering of these clones to have been done under subtle intelligence orders. The Core Imperials, like any other Imperial regime, were not really famous for their transparency."

He cleared his throat.

"Evaluating these clones thoroughly is not only costly but also not a hundred percent effective. Kuat refuses to pay these costs and integrate this specific batch of clones into its society due to their risk to national security." Julius paused and then curtly smirked, a glance at Chandra's direction. "Ironically, the Senator of Balmorra has proposed what I have but under the guise of faux morality and minced words - give the clones labor in exchange for material reward. Clones which the people of Kuat have already paid for."

"I ask the Senators to reconsider their stance, if not for anything else, but for the state security risk these CIC clones clearly are."

Emmen Tagge Emmen Tagge
 
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Senate
Tags: Julius Loghain Julius Loghain Emmen Tagge Emmen Tagge Shute Gunray Shute Gunray Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra Fable Solborne
"Corellia seeks recognition," came the booming voice of the Corellian Diktat stand-in. His disk floated to the speaking position as Kuat's slowly descended. He gave a curt nod to Loghain, a man he respected for taking the reigns of the corrupt Kuati. He also tossed a frog-eyed glare at Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt as she also descended.

"Corellia does not condone the use of clone labor in any form. We agree that much of this legislation is required for any civilized government to call themselves a true democracy...But at the same token it is unfair to paint all clones the same as the clone of a Forceful being, especially when, despite the bill's general tone, is speaking specifically about the Clone Problem we have here and now. We are not talking about hypothetical clones...We are talking about clones made to subjugate the Core Worlds and burn our homes and the Galaxy to the ground. If there was truly any free will among them during their military service to the Core Imperial Confederation they should all be rounded up and tried, not treated as abused cattle and given more chances at success than even those who live in squalor within Coruscant's own Undercity!" He paused.

"Give Kuat their clones, not as property but as a way to pay back their debt to society and reacclimate to civilian life. And not just Kuat," He paused to glance at senator Chandra, his gaze cold and hard. "Offer the same for any clones of the Core Imperial Confederation and I guarantee we will see fewer skirmishes on our borders with nascent Imperial Warlords and roving Clone Attack Forces. I guarantee that these clones were cheaply and quickly made and thus required to have some part of their mind wired to serve. If all we're doing is giving them a handout. Treat them like free persons and hold them accountable or rehabilitate them in projects important to the continued growth and stability of the Alliance. Otherwise, we are going to be looking at a lot of idle hands and idle hands are a Sith's workshop, especially when they're attached to a trained and deadly fighting force."

"Senator Kiyoshi, before the brutal attempt on his life, had me privy to potential plans the Committee for Galactic Infrastructure to lobby the Senate for use of the Clones as a labor force for their works to cut down costs and rehabilitate the old Clone armies. Honest pay for honest work. Corellia returns the floor."


Corellia's pod hovered back into place to allow for the next.
 
Objective 1 - Relief Arithmetic of Lialic
Lialic // Relief Camp //

Marae Tavlar Marae Tavlar // Serena Rylvin // Craig YNWA Craig YNWA
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Green girl. Her tongue clicked against the roof of her mouth, but that was the extent of her agitation. She'd honestly underestimated the weight of the crate and feigned strength long enough to pass it on. With the assembly line in place, the emerald-haired soldier was between two brunettes and had her hands on the crate for...not a very long time. Perfect.

Where were these things supposed to go?

"Some of the empty spots in the shuttle you just arrived in," Passively, she shrugged at the plucky pilot's question. A hand fell to her popped hip and she fanned herself to little end. The mirialan preferred the clutches of the cold, rather than the heat that suffocated them from all around. The woman from the worlds in the Outer Rim was unaccustomed to the heat, and was beyond uncomfortable. Add manual labour to that, and she was nothing but a grumbling bag of flesh.

A glance to her chrono confirmed there was still another hour or so left in this shift.

"The best relief for these people would be getting off this planet, seriously."

The GADF Ranger boasted about his impressive jacket, and envy swirled around her. Possibly making her even greener. She was about to pester him about the origin of the useful layer, mourning it not being issued to the commandos, when the pilot buckling under the weight of the droid parts suggested a clothing swap.

A roguish grin cracked along her lips and she puckered them for a moment in faux consideration. She winked at the girl: "I don't think it's the jacket."

Happy to be idle, but not happy to be scrutinized, Gala quickly found herself crouching and wedging some fingers under a large crate. Lifting with her knees, she gave an oofish grunt and staggered before waltzing back the way they came.

Lazy as ever, the duelist off boarded any sense of seniority she might have had after her first statement and backpedalled from the position of delivering orders. That was more a Gideon or Din thing to do, anyway.

"You look like the ultimate do-gooder type, curls. So I'm gonna follow your lead for distribution."

A horrible realization struck her.

"You must be a Jedi."
 









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OBJECTIVE 1: Relief of Arithmetic Lilac
LOCATION: RELIEF CAMP
Allies: Errant Errant Bernard of Arca Bernard of Arca Craig YNWA Craig YNWA Gala Geert Gala Geert Serena Rylvin

The camp looked a lot worse then it was given credit for people were actively dying, homeless children and the looking onward to the scene in front of him, Lon shivered at the thought although he often saw first hand of effects of war on many missions on the people, politics and overall destruction it never got any easier to rationalize any of it. It was the main reason why he signed up to so many relief missions, although Lon was an amazing fighter having participated in many battles during his short time in the order he always felt that his calling was somewhere else.

Kneeling down to a boy who was tugging at his sleeve, unloading his his pack he gave the boy some of the military style rations. “Here you go.” It wasn’t much but at this point Lon didn’t seem to think that the locals would care any and all help would be accepted. Given the current circumstances he couldn’t blame them one bit. The boy gratefully took the ration before proceeding to run off.

Lon had arrived on relatively short notice. He had signed on a whim so he didn’t expect anyone to have known he was coming. Despite the apparent chaos of the environment the people present moved with the efficiency of a well maintained healing wards of the Jedi temple on Coruscant and on such scarce medical supplies too. In most situations such as this Lon would just jump in and get his hands dirty but it seemed inappropriate as they clearly had a system going for them.

Some of them of them were unloading what appeared to be weapon crates. Lon wasn’t sure why weapons would be at a relief camp of all places, they were supposed to provide a means of sanctuary away from all the fighting, granted that wouldn’t always be the case since there was always more injured and civilians coming there they need some level of protection. That was another reason why Lon there, no doubt some Jedi too.

Lon looked around for someone who was possibly in charge of the place, aside from the people carrying the crates, there was another one fixing what appeared to be a thermal shield matrix speaking with an Echani. The molten temperatures of the planet deemed it necessary otherwise everyone at the relief camp would have died from the heat within minutes.

Lon walked over to the Echani and the young man fixing the unit. Judging by the man’s robes he was a Padawan but carried with him a sense of the authority in the place. Lon had never been on Lialic before he had no reason to be, but something had compelled him to be here.

“Excuse me , I am sorry to interrupt but I am Jedi Knight Lon Vondon and I am here to help. I brought some supplies”, pointing to his ship “I am more experienced in combat situations but I am not too bad at healing, although it isn’t my strong suit I am capable of patching up whoever needs it, just point me wherever you need.”

Although Lon outranked the young man he thought it best of ere on the side of caution until he could find his bearings.


 

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// Nephilim //
// Lialic // Arriving with Galactic Alliance Relief //
// Humanitarian Affairs //
// Bernard of Arca Bernard of Arca // Lon Vondon Lon Vondon //


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A slender eyebrow perked up in response to the Arkanian's jolt of surprise. Errant bit the inside of his cheek, forcing away a smile as his hands remained clasped together behind his back, golden eyes locked on the turning form of Bernard. The Imperial's form straightened as the Jedi Padawan wiped himself down of the gathered sweat, his handkerchief earning that smile Errant so carefully avoided only seconds before. Noticing the hand hovering in the air between them for a few awkward seconds, the Imperial Knight's hand shot out from behind him, fumbling for an instant to take the Jedi's. Errant slid his slender finger's around Bernard's four digits, awkwardly trying to fit them in place as he kept eye contact with the taller of the two. At his horrible display, the Imperial could only manage a half-hearted shrug and forced a smile in apology.

"Yes, that would be me," Errant stepped forward, scooping the toolbox up as he fell in step behind Bernard. Errant stopped abruptly, hugging the toolkit tight against his chest to avoid bumping into the now unmoving Jedi. "Oops, sorry about that," the Echani apologized as they set off once more. "You may refer to me as Errant, I suppose. Make this whole," a hand left the toolbox, motioning between the duo as they traversed the busy platforms. "Process a bit easier," he peeked around Bernard as he spoke, noticing Lon as he approached. Shifting on his heel to face Lon, Errant nudged Bernard to pull his attention over to the newcomer.

"Oh, if it isn't another Jedi Knight," Errant dipped his chin in a nod, greeting the stranger. "Fortunately, combat has no place on the agenda today, right, Bernard?" the Echani looked over to his taller companion once more, the faintest of smiles tugging at the corners of his lips. "However, I'm sure some of the more damaged could use healing, get them back on track for necessary repairs to this location," Errant spoke with authority all his own, both his posture and mannerisms denoting a man of aristocratic upbringing. "The good Jedi will know best, of course, I only offer recommendations based on what I've seen post-arrival," he carefully slid the toolbox beneath his arm, held in place by the crook of his elbow. "What would you suggest, Bernard? Our good friend requires direction."

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Dorian Sevanar

Guest
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Location | Lialic
Objective | Retrieve the Device
NPCs and Forces | Agent 66 | Judgement Troopers | Enforcer | Intercessors [x2]
Focus | Republic Engineering Republic Engineering | Shattered_Mirror Shattered_Mirror | Ryv Ryv | Elias Vati

After waiting for a long time. The Guide , the one that Agent 66 had bribed was in sight as Agent 66 spotted him with his electrobinoculars. He was onboard a small speeder transporting the device and was headed for the rendezvous point. It would only take a few minutes before the Guide reached them and soon enough the device would be in their grasp and taken onboard the Shuttle where it would reach Dorian Sevanar's Ship. As the Guide advanced towards them Agent 66 notified the Rogue Admiral of the current status of the Mission.

"Admiral Sevanar , the Guide is in sight with the Device. He should met with me and my Troops within the next few minutes." Agent 66 said. "Good. Are the shuttles ready for departure?" Dorian replied as he needed to make sure his operatives on the surface were doing their jobs properly. "Yes sir both shuttles are ready." Agent 66 Answered. Good Dorian Sevanar thought. If everything went smoothly then his associates would have a weapon capable of devastating any one who dared challenge them. The only thing in his way were a Few Alliance Vessels and Starfighters and probably some Alliance Operatives but Dorian wasn't concerned about these obstacles confident he could outmaneuver them.

So far the Operation was going well , the enemy did not know where the Enforcer was and in the scenario of a battle in orbit , Dorian Sevanar had two Intercessor-Class Star Destroyers on Questal ready to reinforce him. On the ground , Agent 66 and his Judgement Troopers were minutes away from retrieving the device and it's blueprints and the two shuttles in which would transport the troopers and the device seperatly were ready for departure. To Dorian , the Alliance was already one step behind , and they would soon be in no position of retrieving the device and soon enough he would be in neutral space far from the grasp of the Alliance with the device in his hands ready to deal a devastating blow against his enemies. It was only a matter of time.
 
if they're watching anyways


Oh, how she wished she could tell some of these senators off. Senator Loghain seemed to only be here for his own benefit, but that obvious agenda might cause him to lose votes if he failed to show the benefits that might be given to other systems. Chancellor Tagge was as diplomatic as ever, always considering each side. Senator Chandra was partly what Auteme wanted to be like when she grew up. Gunray's intentions and methodology were far from ideal, but everyone had to compromise. Solborne was competent and well-spoken, her plan comprehensive. Ardinn and Nova had their own valid reasons to oppose the bill.

It could always be amended, she supposed. But sweeping changes such as this were necessary to change things. If the Alliance passed this bill, they could begin changing the galaxy. Coruscant was the core of the Core and when it did something the galaxy followed. Progressiveness and the understanding of modern sciences could do real good.

Self determination for clones was very, very important. Auteme was incredibly impressed by Loske's courage in speaking to the Senate. Someday -- someday soon -- Auteme would need to do the same, to be the representative of the Jedi. Still... Loske had been incredible today, and Auteme knew how incredible she was in the pilot's seat. For a moment she held that old doubt in herself. There'd always be someone better. And if there was someone better, she wasn't really the person to be doing it.

Auteme looked over at Loske, reaching out through the Force to feel her friend. Yep, that was vomit coming up. Soon. She subtly drew the blonde's attention, just to give a warm smile and a thumbs up of encouragement.

Staff Aide Praji had excellent insight. While Auteme was far from the Staff Aide's level of wisdom, she did want to provide her own little bit of help. She couldn't enter the discussions directly. Helping the Chancellor was the best way to contribute. The padawan paused from her note-taking as there was a lull in the conversation in the Senate building.

"If I recall correctly, the Old Republic's records reported a fair few desertions, but the clones were rarely violent. And... well, despite our best intentions, it would also be good to be cautious. Senator Loghain's evidence still should be considered." She paused, considering her next words. "I think the Jedi could be of great help here. One of the best ways to learn about life is to learn about the Force. And everyone deserves to live."
 
"We are discussing quite the opposite, Senator Loghain," he retorts, this time without claiming the floor to silence the masses, "we are in agreement that not all clones are created equally or without a specific purpose. Some have free will, some do not," his attention turns to the Podium's viewscreen to observe the document the delegation of Kuat had sent.

Contingency Orders for his Majesty's Royal Military.

His lips tighten as he skims some of the one hundred orders listed in the document. The Lord-Regent was right that it was dangerous to assume the CIC combat clones were free citizens by default. However, this is not what he, nor any of the other representatives were advocating for.

"Should it be the Senate's will, as it is mine, to bestow the basic rights and freedoms of sapient beings upon vetted clones, and to ban the production of future sapient clones, then so too will it be the decision of the Senate to determine the fate of those who do not meet the requirements or are deemed a threat to the Alliance," the Chancellor dismisses the document from his screen to turn his attention back to the rotunda.

"As I have made clear; I am of the opinion that the production of sapient clones & programmed clones bearing the likeness of sapient beings should be prohibited," he holds his arms out wide, "with that said, I am in agreement with the honourable Senator of Kalist that any programmed or irredeemable batches discovered should be treated as illicit assets or enemy combatants, and thus be exterminated."

With a soft sigh, he rests his hands on the terminal in front of him, "Let us take this in parts before we get ahead of ourselves: I hereby move the Senate to vote on the matter of Sapient Rights for Clones. For the purposes of this vote, it is to be assumed the subjects in question have been found to possess free will."

Taking a step away from the Podium to allow the delegations their chance to state or submit their votes, Emmen looks down the young Jedi scribe alongside his senior representatives. He gives a sage nod, "If we can have the Senate acknowledge Clone Rights, then we can explore whatever options are available to us to avoid funneling these potential citizens into labour camps and conscript battalions."

His tired eyes rise from Auteme to rest on his Staff Aide, "this one has not been easy. Not as a populist Chancellor, at least."
 
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Inaros Kaal

Guest
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Objective III
Imperial Remnants & where to find them
Actors: Emmen Tagge Emmen Tagge Julius Loghain Julius Loghain Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra Shute Gunray Shute Gunray Fable Solborne Auteme Auteme Yularen Nova Yularen Nova Vonar Ardinn Mina Praji Mina Praji Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt

"What are they doing, they cannot simply pardon those criminals! The devastation those Core Imperial clones have wrought on Metellos, on the Core Worlds as a whole!" Bruenor exclaimed within the Senatorial pod of Metellos' delegation. "Who does that brat from Balmorra think she is! And Chancellor Tagge too! Pah! At least that Loghain has the gall to speak the truth!" His puffy cheeks had visibly run red as he worked himself up over nothing, wildly gesturing as he flailed from side to side in his seat.

Isanne silently sighed. She let her head lean on the palm of her hand as she relaxed into the comfort of her seat's cushions. It was during moments like these that she was thankful to the Alliance engineers who had been blessed with the foresight to install soundproofing technology into the senatorial pods. She flicked her other hand lazily, instructing Bruenor to silence his tantrum so she could speak.

"Don't insult your own intelligence by acting a fool, Bruenor. Had you paid attention to their words as you were supposed to," her gaze slowly shifted to the man, icy and unamused, "you would have realized that this resolution accomplishes precisely what you ask. The CIC's clones are 'no more than organic droids', by the chancellor's own admission. We have every right to do with them as we wish. Only clones like this Lady Matson stand to gain from it, none more." she said. Her tone had been as icy as her gaze.

"Please, begin to think of the future, old man," she added after a moment's pause, feigning a modicum of courtesy.

Bruenor shrank in his seat under his superior's gaze, reflexively wiping the corners of his mouth with the sleeves of his robes. He avoided her eyes when he replied, "Y-yes, senator Septum."

A hint of nausea overcame her as she stared down at the man. Were her missteps during the height of youth so grave that she deserved punishment like this? To have a fool like Bruenor chained to her ankle by way of nepotism within the highest echelons of Metellos? She rolled her eyes, turning to the voting console. With an elegant and composed motion, she locked in Metellos vote.


<< Metellos votes in favour of granting Sapient Rights to Clones >>
 

Fable Solborne

Guest
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Isanne Septum Emmen Tagge Emmen Tagge Julius Loghain Julius Loghain Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra Shute Gunray Shute Gunray Auteme Auteme Yularen Nova Yularen Nova Vonar Ardinn Mina Praji Mina Praji Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt

Fable frowned as she listened to the discussion, taking notes on a data pad on the various points raised and the different angles different politicians took., before the Chancellor moved to the vote. To say that she was concerned was an understatement. There was no formalized language in place for the vote to cover. That left the interpretation up to the individual planets, which could easily turn the many statements and conversations into whatever they wished, especially the words of Tagge. Some of what she was hearing were things she had never imagined hearing from him.

She stood up and activated the pod

"
The Kalist delegation requests the floor and moves to table the vote until a written bill or proposal with concrete, written out language with the force of law can be voted on. As of yet, the vote means nothing, as there is nothing to vote on." She paused to clear her throat and wait for the undoubted softly spoken responses to filter down. "This would be nothing more than a symbolic, unenforceable vote whose results and words are open for abuse and interpretation by anyone who wishes to abide by the non-existent letter of the resolution rather than what we are hoping to achieve. We are not just voting for ourselves in this room, the clones currently in existence, either serving as slave-soldiers or disarmed. We are voting for future generations so that decades from now, perhaps centuries, our descendants can look back and know exactly what we voted on and stood for today. Right now, if they look back on this vote, it will be an empty gesture."

Again, she paused to let those words sink in through the chamber and her fellow representatives, taking a sip of water from the glass next to her on the pod.

"This vote has the potential to strip the fundamental rights away from thousands of individuals forced into a life they did not choose. It is worth being cautious. When we committed to democracy, to creating a better place for the people we represent to live, we took on a duty and commitment to the hard part of the job. And this is where we must show our commitment to the challenge. If this discussion, this vote is to matter, there needs to be something concrete. Something real. We need to put in the work of erasing loopholes, defining terms, creating a structure, and ensuring there are enforcement measures and consequences for choosing to ignore the law. We cannot simply vote on something and then hope it works out in the end. Not when there are lives at stake. Not when terms like irreparably damaged or organic droids are being thrown around. Yes, the contingency orders are dangerous and yes, there are clones whose genetics and minds have been altered. But what difference is there between that and our own members of the GADF who have been injured? All soldiers are indoctrinated with orders, procedures, and protocols. Yet we reintegrate them into society. As for free will or not, that is for Jedi and the philosophers to debate. We are neither. We deal in law and policy. There are species that do not have free will as humans tend to think of it. Species with collectivist hive minds have the same rights as any other species. Yet under the conversations discussed here, they lack free will, and could be explained as having a status akin to organic droids, putting them at risk of exploitation. Kalist will always vote to recognize the rights of individuals, but it will not condone a vote so vulnerable to exploitation and with unconsidered implications that could be taken advantage of. Until there is a real proposal on the floor, Kalist again moves to table the vote until the hard work is done and written legislation ready to be voted on, clearly defined and enforceable. Kalist yields the floor."
 

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