Public Music for the Core’s Broken Heart

[Seren Gwyn]

The transport hall's lights glowed soft and warm—a rare gentleness in the Core's ceaseless motion. Seren stood slightly apart from the main walkway, her dark attire catching the light in a subdued sheen, the faintest suggestion of shadow curling around her boots like loyal, quiet things. Travelers passed without noticing the shift in the air around her, but power—subtle, poised, carefully leashed—hummed beneath the surface.

From across the hall, two figures approached: Mika Tai En, bright-eyed, purposeful, moving with a kinetic spark that always hinted at more beneath the surface; and Jesse Organa, whose calm presence carried the weight of lineage and music both, the kind of quiet strength that filled a room even before her voice did.

Seren's amber gaze lingered on each of them for a breath, then she lifted a hand. The ambient noise in the hall seemed to soften, just slightly—not silenced, but bowed.

"So," she said, her tone cool but warm at the edges, a sculpted calm. "The three of us step into the Core not as passengers…but as heralds."

Mika grinned—a spark ready to ignite. Jesse's posture tightened with focus, an artist preparing for the stage.

Seren continued, her voice carrying easily despite its softness.

"We are not here to give them a concert." A pause—measured, thoughtful. "We are here to give them a memory."

She shifted her attention to Mika first. "Mika Tai En—you bring fire. Emotion unfiltered, the raw pulse that wakes an audience from complacency. Your voice forces them to feel."

Then to Jesse. "Jesse Organa—you bring shape. Harmony, discipline, heritage. Your music reminds the Core who they were…and who they could be."

Last, she laid her fingertips briefly against her own collarbone, a gesture more symbolic than self-referential. "And I bring the space between."

The lights overhead flickered ever so slightly—not malfunctioning, but reacting.

"The quiet that gives their fire and structure meaning. The note held just long enough to change everything."

The transport doors hissed open, revealing the luminous sprawl of the Core metropolis—towers of durasteel, endless crowds, neon reflecting off polished stone, and the hush of anticipation from those waiting for the performance of a lifetime.

Seren inclined her head toward the passageway. "Shall we begin?"

Together, the three women crossed the threshold—not merely performers, but a convergence of flame, harmony, and shadow stepping into the heart of the galaxy.

Jesse Organa Mika Tai En

 

[Jesse Organa]

Seren Gwyn Mika Tai En

The sounds of the world were beautiful. She moved with a walk and was able to see Seran with a small nod of her head as she thought back to what had happened to get them here... well a lot had happened to her life but specifically why she would be here to sing and enjoy the moment. Serran had the idea and Mika was always interesting.. so there was a chance as she stretched out and the golden of her outfit was beautiful. Her lithe muscled body, long hair back in a ponytail and beautiful skin gleamed with exotic oils from around the galaxy.

The grand opera house of Coruscant gleams under the perpetual twilight of the ecumenopolis, its crystalline spires piercing the smog-veiled sky like lightsaber blades frozen mid-clash. Holographic chandeliers float above velvet seats filled with senators, smugglers, and shadowed Sith acolytes in disguise. The air hums with the low thrum of a jizz orchestra vibroharps and synth-strings tuned to the rhythm of distant hyperspace lanes. It is the height of the glittering decay, and on the central stage, illuminated by a cascade of azure spotlights, stands Jesse Organa.

She is a vision of defiant grace: at 5'4" and a lithe body, her human form transcendent and unapologetic moves with the fluid poise of a Master dancer who has danced on the edge of the Force's wild currents. Her dark hair cascades in intricate braids adorned with silver Twi'lek beads, echoing the elegant severity of her Jedi robes reimagined for the stage: a flowing gown of iridescent Naboo silk that clings like a lover's whisper, slit high to reveal tattoos of ancient Mandalorian runes glowing faintly with midichlorian ink. Hoop earrings of polished cortosis swing like captured stars, and her eyes sharp as a vibroblade hold the galaxy's secrets. Force-sensitive to her core, she channels the song not just with voice, but with subtle waves of emotion that ripple through the audience, stirring forgotten midnights and phantom touches.

This is no mere performance; it is a beguine a hypnotic sway of music and memory, born from the sultry nights of tropical worlds but twisted here into a lament for loves lost to the Jedi Code. As the orchestra strikes the first languid chord, Jesse's voice rises, velvet and thunder, pulling the crowd into a shared reverie. The flashback unfurls like a holocron's projection: a stolen night under Endor's whispering leaves, where the hum of blaster fire fades to the pulse of two hearts entwined against the stars...

Jesse steps forward, her gown shimmering like a lightsaber's afterglow, arms extended as if embracing an invisible partner. The jizz winds weave in, evoking the rustle of wroshyr leaves.

When they begin the beguine
It brings back the whisper of the Force so tender
It brings back a night of Endorian splendor
It brings back a memory, evergreen

I'm with you once more 'neath the binary stars
And down by the shore of the Silver Sea's scars
A jizz band's igniting, the shadows are swaying
When they begin the beguine

She spins slowly, eyes closing as phantom fireflies bioluminescent glow-lanterns flicker in the air, summoned by her subtle Force nudge. The audience leans in, breaths synchronized.

To live it again is past all endeavor
Except when that melody seizes my heart
And there we are, vowing through hyperspace apart
And swearing to love, eternal, never to part

Thus we pledge the deepest blue of the void
And then, presently, presently
Oh, what a clash of sabers, what a holodrama
Presently, presently
All the stars align in the past
Presently, presently
The hyperdrive's cold, the chase is over
All except the last

The lights dim to a crimson haze, mimicking a Coruscant sunset. Jesse's voice drops to a husky timbre, her fingers tracing the air as if igniting an invisible kyber crystal.

When they begin the beguine
And there I am, back in your arms once more
So tenderly yielding to the dark side's lure
I told you I loved you, yes, through the Force I poured
When we begin the beguine

The orchestra swells a frenzy of electric mandolins and throbbing bass drums, like the roar of a podrace on Malastare. Jesse glides across the stage, her form blurring with Force-enhanced grace, leaping in arcs that defy gravity. Holographic projections bloom: lovers silhouetted against Tatooine's twin suns, a stolen kiss amid the ruins of a fallen Temple. The crowd is entranced, some wiping tears, others gripping armrests as buried passions awaken.

Building to a crescendo, Jesse's voice soars, laced with raw midi-chlorian power. She extends a hand toward the audience, as if pulling them into the memory.

To live it again is past all endeavor
Except when that melody seizes my heart
And there we are, vowing through hyperspace apart
And swearing to love, eternal, never to part

Thus we pledge the deepest blue of the void
And then, presently, presently
Oh, what a clash of sabers, what a holodrama
Presently, presently
All the stars align in the past
Presently, presently
The hyperdrive's cold, the chase is over
All except the last

As the final notes fade, Jesse stands center stage, chest heaving, a single tear tracing her cheek Force-amplified for all to feel its weight. The beguine lingers in the air like exhaust from a smuggling run.

When they begin the beguine
And there I am, back in your arms once more
So tenderly yielding to the dark side's lure
I told you I loved you, yes, through the Force I poured
When we begin... the beguine.

The applause erupts like a barrage of turbolaser fire, but Jesse's gaze is distant, lost in the echo of that Endorian night. The memory as she had come off of the stage and gotten the enjoyable moment of the offer to work with the others came.​

She hadn't really seen it as a bad thing, a chance to travel around and do something new at least so she was more then glad to try it out. "Oh you know it." She said it looking at Seran with a grin on her face. A lot had changed with the fall of the alliance and the Organa's had well most had move to the Republic which when that had fallen or been close to it they had jumped to the alliance. Leave it to them to be certain of one or two things... that they would always politically survive. Jesse moved though as she looked at the woman with a smile on ehr face as she spoke. "like the outfit." She said it while showing off the outfit.

Her skin, a flawless canvas of luminous golden-hued porcelain kissed by the faint iridescence of stardust, glows with an inner radiance that rivals the heart of a distant supernova, every subtle contour a testament to the Force's harmonious artistry. Raven tresses, spun from the infinite black of event horizons, tumble in wild yet elegant waves down her back, threaded with delicate filaments of thin Endorian glow-vines that pulse softly like captured aurorae. This midnight cascade frames a face of cataclysmic beauty: cheekbones honed sharper than a beskar edge, ascending like the pinnacles of ancient temples; lips, plush and gently curved in quiet contemplation, tinted the soft crimson of a blooming rose on Alderaan; and eyes abyssal pools of molten amber swirling with emerald nebulae that hold the soul with a gaze both wise and wondrous, promising horizons yet unexplored.

Yet it is her attire that elevates her to the stature of a celestial guardian, a golden intricate masterpiece that adorns her form like the mantle of a star-forged legend, reimagining the threads of destiny as luminous threads of wonder. The top, a breathtaking lattice of cortosis-infused aurodium filigree hammered links and interlocking chains as fine as spider-silk from the forests of Kashyyyk crisscrosses her torso in a hypnotic web of opulent geometry, each chain etched with micro-runes of ancient script and lore that shimmer and shift like living constellations under her Force-attuned touch. Tassels of gilded beads, each one a tiny orb harvested from the crystal caverns of Ilum, dangle in graceful fringes from the edges, swaying with every breath like the pendulums of a cosmic clock, catching the dappled moonlight in a dance of subtle sparkle.

This resplendent harness extends its imperial elegance downward in a seamless cascade of embellished splendor: sinuous chains coil around her midriff like vines guarding a sacred grove, flaring into a skirt of layered golden mesh that drapes her form with the poise of a royal cloak slit gracefully to reveal the marble-smooth expanse of her legs, veined with subtle silver filigree tattoos that trace constellations of wisdom and resolve, pulsing faintly with the rhythm of her steady heartbeat. Bracelets of interlocking aurodium cuffs, studded with opalescent Alderaanian gems that capture the light like ensnared stars, encircle her wrists, chiming softly with the melody of distant wind chimes on storm-swept worlds. Matching anklets delicate chains adorned with tiny kyber shards accentuate the elegant arches of her feet, transforming each step into a ritual of luminous poise.

A choker of the same burnished gold, woven with threads of iridescent Naboo silk, encircles her slender throat like a collar of honored constellations, its central medallion a flawless disc of polished aurebesh script proclaiming her as "Eternal Flame" resting just above the hollow of her collarbone, drawing the eye to the quiet pulse of vitality there, a beacon of enduring light. In this garb, Jesse is no mere memory but a tempest of beauty incarnate, her presence a gentle Force breeze that stirs the senses, leaving admirers adrift in a sea of awe, forever touched by the glimpse of soul-stirring splendor.

 

[Mika Tai En]

Music for the Core

Objective: A new challenge…entertain
Location: The Core
Outfit: Pop Dance Outfit
Tags: Seren Gwyn | Jesse Organa

Curiosity was driving Mika to even more things. Darth Virelia had shown her that blind obedience was no way to live out her life when they met on Desevro. Mika had killed to show she was invested in learning what true power was. Though Mika had become a disciple of the Dark Queen, she was no longer a mere tool to be wielded by her new tutor. A path to darkness had been started for Mika. But there was so much to learn.

Curiosity took Mika to the depths of Malachor, there she found Seren Gwyn. Seren stepped in to show Mika more of what the dark side of the Force was capable of if you were willing to remain open and grab what you find. Seren was a master of shadows. That was very much something that would aid Mika's form of combat. The more she could learn…no take from the teachings of Seren the better off Mika would be.

How Mika meeting her Dark Queen on Desevro and a guide in the darker Force in Seren led Mika to the Core and a musical performance? Thankfully she was no longer timid until receiving orders, as she was when she met Virelia. She would do her best to join Seren in the performance. Mika wasn't confident about her voice, though Seren said it was fine. But they had spent some time with choreography and dancing was sort of what Mika did in battle. Maybe not as aggressive as some of the moves designed for the show, but her natural grace would shine through.

The third member of the trio was an enigma to Mika, and she was bewildered as to how Jesse and Seren came into contact with each other. A Jedi Master of some sort, yet either Jesse didn't hold a bias, or didn't ask what side of the Force Seren and Mika practiced. It wasn't exactly comforting to have a Jedi at her side, but it Mika's life had become less comfortable since Desevro. And it was all for the better. She wouldn't shy away now.

Seren started to hype them up. This made Mika equal parts nervous and excited. The old her would have only been here because of Seren's influence. Mika would never have been so bold as to do something new. To be referred to as the fire and the emotion showed how different she was. And it made Mika blush slightly before collecting herself.

"I'm ready," Mika answered with a nod that looked more confident than it was. Jesse answered as well. Then Jesse asked about her outfit. Mika's eyes ran over Jesse. Part of her still wondering how things got to where they were. It was hard to ignore the luminous draw that Jesse naturally portrayed to focus on the outfit. But Mika's will was strong and she managed to gauge what Jesse was wearing. Just like her natural beauty Jesse's outfit was breathtaking. Mika didn't know what to say, but she smiled.

"Your outfit is going to have all eyes on you. I hope that my energy really does get a little bit of attention. Cause my outfit is nothing next to yours," If Mika was truthful with herself she would feel a little exposed dressed like Jesse in this sort of setting. Mika wondered if she would ever be as comfortable with all eyes looking at her like Jesse seemed to be. No matter whether she would be comfortable, she would be up for trying it someday. Maybe when she was more comfortable with the idea of being on stage. "Let's go give them a show!"

 

[Seren Gwyn]

Seren did not rush the moment.

While applause still thundered for Jesse and the lingering resonance of the beguine clung to the air like perfume, she stood just beyond the edge of the stage lights—eyes half-lidded, breathing slow, centered. Where Jesse had pulled emotion from the audience, and Mika radiated kinetic fire barely leashed, Seren did something quieter.

She listened.

Not to the crowd—but to the space between their heartbeats.

When she stepped forward, it was without announcement. The lights dimmed almost instinctively, responding to something the technicians did not consciously control. Shadows gathered at her feet, not thick or menacing, but soft—like dusk settling over a city that had forgotten how to sleep.

She wore no instrument. She did not need one.

Seren lifted one hand, palm open, fingers relaxed. The orchestra felt it before they understood it—a pressure, a suggestion, a memory of a rhythm that had not yet been played. The first note did not come from the strings.

It came from silence.

A low, resonant hum rolled through the opera house, felt more than heard, vibrating in bone and breath. Shadows climbed the walls, tracing the contours of the grand hall, turning marble and crystal into layered silhouettes. The audience did not feel fear.

They felt recognition.

Seren's voice entered not as melody, but as invocation—soft, controlled, precise.

There are things the light forgets,
when it decides what must be seen.
There are names left in the dark,
etched where vows once lived.

Her tone was calm, almost conversational, yet every word carried weight—memory folded into sound. As she sang, the shadows responded, blooming into slow-moving forms behind her: not figures, not illusions, but impressions. A hand letting go. A crown set aside. A door closed not in anger, but necessity.

Mika felt it immediately—her breath catching as the shadows brushed past her like a familiar blade, acknowledging her presence without judgment.

Jesse felt it too—less as emotion, more as truth, a quiet undertone beneath her own passionate fire.

Seren moved then, not dancing so much as aligning. Each step was measured and deliberate. Where she passed, the shadows softened, revealing fragments of memory projected into the air—not specific events, but intent.

A Jedi hesitating before a killing blow.
A Sith lowering a weapon—not from mercy, but clarity.
A scholar burning her own notes so the wrong hands would never read them.

I do not sing of love unbroken,
nor of virtue without cost.
I sing of choices made in silence,
and of what survives when faith is lost.

The orchestra followed her now, strings and synth blending into a low, steady pulse that mirrored a heartbeat. The audience was utterly still—not enraptured in the way of spectacle, but held, as if moving might cause something important to slip away.

Seren's amber eyes swept the crowd once—not searching, not challenging—simply seeing. Senators, smugglers, Sith acolytes, artists. All of them are equal beneath the shadow.

She raised her second hand, and the shadows rose higher, forming a vast canopy overhead—like a night sky without stars.

The dark does not command,
It remembers.
It keeps what the light abandons.
And it waits…

On the final word, the shadows withdrew—not vanishing, but settling back into their natural places. Corners. Eaves. Behind columns. Always present.

The lights returned slowly.

Seren lowered her hands.

Silence followed—not the awkward kind, but the reverent pause after something irrevocable has been witnessed.

Then the applause came—not explosive, but deep and sustained. People rose without realizing they had done so. Some did not clap at all, hands pressed together as if in prayer, eyes distant.

Seren inclined her head once—to Mika, to Jesse, to the audience.

No smile.

Just acknowledgment.

As she stepped back toward the others, Mika felt her pulse still racing, Jesse's breath still uneven—and Seren, calm as ever, murmured to them both:

"Fire remembers how to burn," she said.
"Song remembers how to ache."
"And shadow…" a faint, knowing curve touched her lips, "…remembers why."

The trilogy was complete.

Jesse Organa Mika Tai En

 

[Jesse Organa]

Seren Gwyn Mika Tai En

She listened to them both and offered a smile to it. Allowing herself the moment while she stretched outwards with the force and the crowd were eating it all up... her golden outfit. "Well we can get you something similar if you would like." She said it and there was a slight roll of the shoulders to loosen up. SHe hadn't preformed like this in a long time... well for any sort of fun. She remembered preforming plenty as she stood there. The chance for them to be able to do a lot more as she spoke. "So what should me be trying out next?" She said it and looked at Seren who had been the brains of this.. she could support a lot while she moved around.