Junction No Disintegrations | BSS & THR Junction of Nar Vaadu Super Hex and Bothawui

[Velzari Tharn]

R E V E N G E - H A S
A R R I V E D
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Hype Trailer

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O B J E C T I V E - 1
A T T A C K - O N - T H E - S E N A T E​

In the wake of the Black Sun Syndicate's failure to lay claim to High Republic systems, the Vigos convened in secrecy. Their verdict is swift: the galaxy must be reminded of the Black Sun's shadowy, iron hand. To that end, a strike force of bounty hunters, mercenaries and assassins is dispatched to the jewel of the Mid Rim—Naboo. Their mission is to storm the Senate hall in the midst of a session, sow chaos, and drag the High Chancellor from her podium in chains. Collateral damage is acceptable, but Republic senators fetch a much higher price alive than they do dead. And remember, we need Chancellor Kalantha alive... no disintegrations.

Sub-Objectives

Objective 1A: Hostage Crisis. Black Sun's forces are capturing senators, dignitaries, and notable Senate staff—anyone who could be ransomed for a decent sum of credits.

Black Sun: Hunt them down and round them up like the dogs they are. If they come without a fight, give them a muzzle... if they bite back, put them down. Find the Chancellor, put her in chains, and drag her to the transport. She's the ultimate target.​

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High Republic: Bounty hunters are searching the Senate complex for the High Chancellor. She must not be allowed to fall into their hands! Find Kalantha before Black Sun does and save any senators you can in the process.​

Objective 1B: Lights Out. The Senate's plasma generator has been destroyed, plunging the building into darkness. Mass hysteria and jammed communications makes the situation all the more dangerous.

Black Sun: If Republic forces are able to restore power with backup generators, we lose our advantage. Get to the lower levels and keep them from turning on the lights.​

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High Republic: The generator has been destroyed, but there's a backup in the lower levels. Fight in the darkness to reach the engineering station and restore power to the Senate building. They're scatter like roaches when they can't hide in the shadows.​

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O B J E C T I V E - 2
J E D I - T E M P L E - D I S T R A C T I O N​

Meanwhile, the Black Sun's ambitions stretch even further. To divide attention and occupy the Jedi of the High Republic, the Syndicate unleashes its newest weapon: the reborn Bando Gora. Twisted zealots and cult-born assassins descend upon the sacred Shiraya Jedi Temple, intent on shattering its defenders and silencing the Force within its halls—to bring the eclipse and leave only the darkness. Their mission is twofold: delay the Jedi's discovery of the Senate attack, and loot the Order's precious archives.

Sub-Objectives

Objective 2A: Kick the Door Down. A ruthless force of Black Sun Guard, bounty hunters, mercenaries, and Bando Gora assassins breach the Jedi Order's temple on Naboo, engulfing its courtyard in a fray of blasters, blades, and lightsabers.

Black Sun: Keep the Jedi distracted for a long as you can. The sooner they learn of our attack on the Senate, the sooner they will come to the Republic's aid. Use any means necessary.​

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High Republic: The Jedi temple is under siege! Defend the inner chambers from Black Sun and drive them back.​

Objective 2B: Bring Your Library Card. Black Sun never misses an opportunity to gain an upper hand. While the main force attacks the Jedi in the open, a smaller team is infiltrating the Jedi Archives.

Black Sun: The secrets within these walls could turn the tide against the Republic—or at the very least, turn a profit on the black market. Steal anything that's not bolted down, but be prepared for resistance. The Jedi will not let us go quietly with chests full of loot.​

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High Republic: During the heat of the battle, Black Sun pillagers have slipped into the Archives. They're looting relics, holocrons, and ancient star charts. They must not be allowed to escape with these artifacts.​

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[Aurelian Veruna]

Objective 1A

X | X​

Aurelian leaned back against the carved stone desk that dominated his new office. Its edges were gilded with Naboo artistry, the sovereign's seal inlaid deep into the polished surface. The room, still strange to him, smelled faintly of lacquer and old incense, a place meant for legacy, for permanence. But Aurelian was young, and permanence had always felt more like a dare than a truth. His dangerous smile flickered as the palace's heavy doors sealed with a grinding thud, their echo quickly swallowed by the hum of security locks sliding into place.

The Royal Guard moved with precision, spears and blasters in hand, their armor gleaming in the low light. Blaire Sal-Soren stood nearby. She had come for Jaa Ardan , a man she claimed possessed enough discipline and loyalty to serve in the Sovereign's guard. Aurelian had humored the request, intrigued by both the candidate and Blaire herself. He had been prepared to grant her audience until the alarms began to shriek across Theed.

"Report," Aurelian snapped, his voice sharp as he turned toward his guards. Dark eyes burned with a restless gleam as he assessed the room, its corners, and the heavy curtains that suddenly felt like veils against whatever prowled beyond the palace walls.

Seldan, loyal as ever, had been dispatched with Jaa the moment danger's first tremor reached them. Aurelian trusted him. He trusted few.

Then, as though the world itself were breathing in, the entire palace sank into blackness. The lights died, consoles dimmed, and even the soft hum of the palace fountains was stolen. For an instant, silence. Then, the clamor of distant shouts broke through. Aurelian's expression hardened. This was planned, no accident, especially with the Assembly gathering tonight.

His fingers slid to his belt, where his personal shield generator rested like an old friend. With a practiced twist, he activated it. The air shimmered faintly, wrapping him in an invisible shell of defense. He reached for another, offering it out to Blaire with the half-smile that had unsettled courts and charmed enemies alike. "Take it," he said, his voice quiet but firm. "You came here to protect someone you trust, and now I'll see you protected as well."

The guards pressed him to remain, to wait in the fortified office until order was restored. He ignored them, eyes fixed on the blackened corridor beyond. "If this is Black Sun again," Aurelian murmured, almost to himself, "then they've mistaken me for a man who hides." His gaze flicked back to Blaire, sharp and intent. "I will not cower in these walls when they dare to strike at my city, my Assembly."

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[Seldan Rourke]

Objective 1B​

Seldan moved with the weight of a man who had carried too many fights, each step a measured calculation. His armor, scuffed at the edges but gleaming where it mattered, clinked softly as he brushed past frightened aides pressed against the wall. Wide eyes peered up at him from the dark, their fear raw. He offered a curt nod, his rifle barrel sweeping the shadows beyond them. Panic blinded people; it was better they stayed huddled like rodents than scattered into the teeth of whatever had come crawling through Naboo's halls tonight.

"Clear," he muttered after sweeping another alcove. His voice was low, gravelly, with an edge of command. He jerked his chin at Jaa Ardan , signaling him forward as the two men advanced down the narrow hall, weapons tight against their shoulders. Somewhere above, the muffled chaos of the Senate bled through the stone: shouts, boots, the distant whine of blasterfire.

They slipped past another pair of senators crouched in a doorway, silk robes dirtied by dust, their jeweled rings shaking as they tried to hush their breath. Seldan didn't spare them more than a glance. His rifle swept left, then right, until the hall gave way to a descending stairwell choked with shadows. He tilted his head slightly toward Jaa, breaking the silence that clung like smoke.

"Tell me something about yourself," Seldan said, his voice steady but quiet. "Doesn't matter what. Just keep talking." His finger rested against the trigger guard, ready but not tensed. "It helps me keep my mind sharp when I've got more dark corners than targets."

He adjusted his grip on the rifle, shoulders broad, his body angled like a shield between Jaa and the unknown yawning ahead. His mouth tugged at the faintest smirk, though his eyes never softened. "Besides, I've marched next to you long enough without knowing if you gamble, sing, or pray when the walls start closing in. Which is it?"

The faint echo of his words lingered in the stairwell as they advanced, the question a thread to hold onto in the black, where anything might be waiting.

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Objective 2A​

Lorn's boots struck the stone with the certainty of a man who knew exactly what awaited him. The courtyard was alive with fire and screams as Syndicate soldiers poured through breaches in the outer wall, the twisted shapes of the Bando Gora slinking at their heels. He ignited his saber as he landed, the golden blade humming to life and carving a line of defense through the chaos. Aiden Porte would touch down beside him, their blades mirroring each other as they formed the spearhead of resistance.

"Hold here," Lorn said, his voice steady against the storm. His eyes remained fixed on the tide of enemies flooding in. This wasn't just a raid, it was desecration. The Temple was never meant to be a battleground, yet now it burned under Black Sun's shadow.

Blaster bolts screamed toward them. He deflected two with a precise sweep of his blade and let a third slam into the shielding pylons behind them. The temple's defenses responded, turrets firing from the walls, but it wouldn't be enough.

The younglings. That thought alone locked his stance, hardening his resolve. Behind him, he could feel their fear pressing against the Force like a whisper. They had to hold.

"Stay close," he murmured to Aiden as the first wave of mercenaries crashed against them. His saber moved with lethal efficiency; no wasted motion, every cut and block buying another precious second for the lives sheltered inside.

If betrayal was inevitable, so was sacrifice. And Lorn would bleed before he let Black Sun breach the temple walls.

 

[Auren Vellisar]

NO DISINTIGRATIONS: OBJECTIVE 1A
LOCATION: Naboo, Senate Hall
ALLIES: The High Republic
OPPOSITION: The Black Sun Syndicate
NPC'S: Chief of Staff, Lysa Quarn & Tolen Vair, head of security

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Today was supposed to be just another day in business.

Auren Vellisar stood alongside his Chief of Staff, Lysa Quarn, as they both overlooked the mass Senate Hall and gathering of political figures all vying to represent their respective worlds, lands and titles. Auren himself, the political representative for Jhaessa Prime, who had gained the position through cooperation with the young and naive Balun Dashiell —An incredibly wealthy, well-connected Force User, yet inexperienced when it came to the finer art of diplomacy and working alongside other Nations of the Galaxy.

Tolen Vair, Auren's head of security, had positioned himself to the rear of the podium, armed with only a blaster pistol as was his custom. Nothing about this day struck the team as any extraordinary than any other. Senator Vellisar was there to make the rounds, smile, and show his presence for the sake of the Senate; thus, he didn't allow himself to become obsolete and forgotten, given his limited presence over the recent months. Jhaessa Prime was still a baby compared to other worlds, still struggling in its establishment and requiring Auren's diplomatic skills to assist in securing funds and establishing a political presence, so that other parties might come to the playing field and invest in its untapped potential.

Naboo, however, was his first home, where his parents had raised him, and that was a strong part of his legacy. He was brought up with the best of education, wined and dined with the upper nobility, thanks to no small amount of encouragement from his Father, and today he lived in the fruits of such a laboured youth. The High Republic was, in his mind, the best place he could be. Formerly the Royal Naboo Republic, his diplomatic lifestyle suited the vested interests of the Republic. Auren was a peaceful man, friendly and well-liked by those who knew him.

Today was going to test his mettle.

>> Jhaessa Prime | World-Building <<​

"In the boundless hush of stars, where countless voices rise and fade, I speak for one—Jhaessa Prime. Steadfast, unseen, yet worthy. For even a single world, wrapped in quiet hope, can shine like a sun if someone dares to speak its name."

 

[Aiden Porte]

2A
Lorn Reingard​

He landed beside Lorn, the impact shuddering through his knees as his saber snapped to life in a flare of blue-white. The clash of their blades against the first wave came almost instantly, and already the acrid tang of smoke filled his lungs.

The Temple. Their Temple. He felt its anguish through the Force as clearly as he felt the terror of the younglings cowering behind them. Centuries of calm meditation, of study and prayer, now threatened to be swallowed whole in this chaos. Black Sun desecrated walls that had never known war. The Bando Gora's presence gnawed deeper still, like shadows worming their way into the soul of the stone.

Hold here

Aiden drew strength from that certainty. His own heart was hammering, the pressure of responsibility a weight that threatened to crush—but he knew this was the hour he had been trained for. He was his father's son, and a Jedi Knight of the High Republic.

Blasterfire cracked. His saber intercepted three bolts in a whirl of movement that left his wrists burning. One mercenary lunged, and Aiden's blade cut the strike aside, sending the man sprawling with a push of the Force. Another came, then three more, the tide unending.

"I will not break." Aiden answered He felt the fear of the children behind them, like fragile glass about to shatter, and he let that fear pour through him, tempering into a steel resolve. Every step backward he refused to give. Every strike he parried was a promise kept.

The enemy was endless. But so was their duty. And Aiden would sooner fall to the flames than allow the Temple to be defiled while he still drew breath.

 

[Balun Dashiell]

NO DISINTEGRATIONS: OBJECTIVE 2B
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel, Lightsaber & K-16 Bryar Pistol
ALLIES: The High Republic
OPPOSITION: The Black Sun Syndicate

"The Archives! Go now! Help them lock it down!".

The instructions came from a Jedi Knight of Shiraya's Sanctuary, Talm Ornolf. Balun Dashiell hadn't known him well, nor spent a great deal of time under his tutelage. Still, he had lectured a couple of classes over the time that Bale had been with the Jedi of the High Republic in the absence of Ala Quin 's ability to walk alongside him in his training. There wasn't time to argue and explain that he wished to get to his Master's side, as there was a rush of activity within Shiraya's Sanctuary after the looming threat of an attack had been made known.

"Chit, this is Coruscant all over again", Balun swore under his breath as he ran down the corridor of the Temple, twisting and turning as he sought to get past the other Jedi rushing for the defence of the Temple Entrance. Balun had been present during two invasions against the Temple of Coruscant by the Imperials, and not knowing who or what to expect today didn't fill him with a great deal of confidence. He had seen war, seen the carnage and casualties of such open conflict, and now the younger generations of students who hadn't yet been exposed to it all were about to see firsthand just how vile the Galaxy could turn.

He was headed for the Archives of the Sanctuary, moving through the vast Temple under the orders to help the other Jedi present there secure and safeguard the Holocron Vault, which the Order retained as the most prized and dangerous of Force-related artifacts. Naturally, for any invading party, this was a treasure trove of highly valuable goods, not just for their worth in credits but also for the knowledge and danger some of them possessed if lost to those with ill intentions.

It wasn't often that Balun found himself at Shiraya's Sanctuary, much preferring an environment that was anything but Jedi. While he was a follower of the Light and a Force User being trained by a Master Quin, he still stubbornly refused to admit or look the part. The Jedi were like a second family to him, and his disinterest wasn't out of personal dispute, but instead, he clung to his independence and freedom to choose his own path so tightly that anything less felt like he would be stepping down in life.

Reaching the entrance to the Archives, Balun sought to find anyone familiar. Jedi, that he recognised who would direct him where he was best utilised. Still considered an Apprentice and Student of the Order, he wasn't someone who carried formal authority on Naboo. Save for his corporate influence as a figurehead of Dashiell Incorporated and the current leading figure presiding over Jhaessa Prime, all of which carried more political weight than it did with the Jedi Order.

Jedi Master: Ala Quin
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​

 

[Shego Striga]

RELEASE THE HOUNDS
Objective A1

Kito | OPEN

V.E.N.O.M | H.Y.D.R.A​

Shego adjusted the gear spread before her, calibrating each piece with quick, practiced movements as the war drums thundered through the hangar. Outside the ship's armored hull, the Syndicate's soldiers gathered like a living swarm, ready to descend on Naboo's shining jewel. Ironic, she thought. Not long ago, some of those very senators would have courted her expertise. Now they were marks, coin purses wrapped in fine silks, destined for chains.

There was no retreat from this. Commitment was survival.

She lifted the carefully prepared vials of radiant green residue and slotted them into their compartments, feeding the venomous glow into the gear linked to her body. The HYDRA system, fused into her spine, flared with subtle pulses as she flexed against the sleek, black armored suit. And an exoskeletal armature that made her a weapon unto herself.

Satisfied, she moved to the rack. A lightweight slugthrower came first, its sling tightened across her shoulder, followed by a sidearm holstered with a decisive click. Fully kitted, she began limping toward the shuttle bay doors, voice low as she activated the wrist-port recorder.

Her gauntlet flickered as she updated it's system.

"Field test 1 progressing. HYDRA integration stable. VENOM primed for dispersal but containment protocols remain intact. Black Sun objectives align with test environment. Mission Parameters Acceptable."

Her feet sealed to the hovercraft. It's blades unfurling as emerald light erupted from the jaws of the hanger bay and out shot a serpent into the skies. Descending ever downward into the pit of chaos unfolding below and activating the thrusters to spiral towards the Grand Hall.

She eased off the throttle, circling the Senate dome. Mercenaries had wasted no time securing ingress. But for Shego, brute force was for amateurs. She wanted data, not rubble.

Gliding to a shadowed terrace, she dismounted with fluid precision. The BASILISK folded into standby mode, thrusters cooling with a low hiss as she scanned the ornate columns ahead. Republic architecture was beautiful, yes—but more importantly, it was riddled with ducts, crawlspaces, and hidden service tunnels. Perfect arteries for venom to flow through.

Shego crouched, slipping the machine gun forward on its sling and checking her sidearm with practiced ease. Through the comms, The Basilisks voice crackled to others within The Black Sun:

"Advancing position~" She announced to any who were willing to assist.

Shego's hand hovered over a vial embedded in her harness. The glowing green liquid pulsed faintly, keeping it on standby as she blended into the dark and made her entrance into the compound.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

OBJECTIVE 1A: I AM THE SENATE

Dominique sank back into her chair. Projected displays hovered above the desk with various reports and legislation layered on top of one another. Fluid motions had interacted with the projection in conjunction with her glareshades up until that point. Now it was time to ruminate on what she'd discovered. Amidst Senatorial business she'd been pursuing other matters, which had been slipped in with the official work in case anyone found a way to spy on her displays. Matters regarding the Five Veils warranted certain amounts of... caution.

After a sip of water from her glass, Dominique turned to glance out the window at the landscape of Naboo.

The Five Veils wasn't her only concern of late. Fortunately enough, matters on Denon were in hand, but the affairs of the Republic and Naboo were in question. Much as she felt proud of her world's ability to stand alone, it was an undeniable fact that there was strength in numbers and it was better the fighting be done elsewhere than the homefront. So external matters was of import to this Director.

As she reflected on events, Dominique's chin lifted a hair as the sound of the air circulators and lights cut out. More importantly, her glareshades indicated a loss of signal. Again. The tips of her fingers drummed atop her desk for just a second before she surged to her feet.

Meaningfully, she crossed her office to where she had an outfit stored just for this occasion. This had to be the assault sources had indicated was coming. Not when or where or how, but a simple loss of power wouldn't cut off her ability to call in CTRLd. Events that would not be served with her usual attire.

It only took a minute for her to strip out of her fashionably-malleable outfit and into something a little more... commanding. There was no doubting Ayumi Pallopides 's influence in its design. The woman enjoyed getting an eyeful of Dominique. Armor, however, had to conceal. Naturally, the solution was to make it skin-tight concealment. At least it didn't pinch. Perhaps an interesting characteristic of the exotic material is was made from?

With her glareshades placed back on the bridge of her nose, Dominique strode toward the door of her office. There was supposed to be a session in progress today. There'd been a few procedural matters and organizational affairs, however, along with a few pieces of legislation that frankly didn't require her personal attendance, so she'd slipped away to her office. With an attack underway, however, she had to wonder whom they would be after. Aurelian? Herself? Sibylla? To finish what they started. Or someone of higher publicity? An assault of this magnitude would not be cheap. Their pride wasn't so easily or permanently wounded they'd waste the effort for mere 'revenge.' Would they?

As she stepped into the hallway, Dominique found a few aides looking agitated. "What are you doing? Get to the safe shelter. Now." A clip tone cut through their anxiety and had them step quickly. There was a secure chamber to retreat to in these circumstances. Better there than the hallways that might turn into a fire fight at any moment.

Her lips pressed together for a moment. Where was Sibylla Abrantes ? Should she check on Aurelian Veruna ? The rational choice was to return to the chamber. They and the Chancellor Kalantha might all be in one place. No doubt the Black Sun was hoping as much. With no time to lose, she picked up the pace to discover their fate and deign what the next step should be to survive.

In answer, the building shook and a deep, distant thunder answered the Denonite. An explosion? Then it was an assault, and they were likely already in the building. Dominique broke into an outright sprint. They could get to the chamber long before CTRLd spun up the response force and got on the scene without her actively calling for their intervention. Time was not on their side.

Auren Vellisar | Aurelian Veruna | OPEN
Shego Striga​

 

[Kalantha]

NO DISINTEGRATIONS
… A High Republic Junction

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With every passing Senate session, Kalantha—no longer Queen of Naboo, but High Chancellor of the Republic—was reminded that the galaxy was much larger that she once thought… and it was only growing larger by the day. Just this morning, she felt as if her biggest concern was securing the Globe of Peace to stabilize relations with the native Gungans. Now, she was entertaining the annexation of GA planets and considering bills that could see armies of clone troopers commissioned to defend her people.

But even in moments like this, when she felt so small in comparison to the challenges she faced, she found herself emboldened by her station. That the people of the Republic had chosen her to serve as the first High Chancellor of their nascent democracy was an honor unlike any other. No matter how many new pods were added to the Senate chambers or tricky bills were put before the assembly, she would continue to serve her constituents without faltering.

It was a promise she was intent on keeping—despite the distant rumble of an explosion beneath her feet and the sudden plunge into ominous red emergency light that enveloped the Senate chambers.

“Remain calm!” she could hear a Senate Commando yell. Kalantha leaned to one of her aides to hear him over the growing chorus of voices that echoed through the room.

“What’s happened?” the Chancellor asked. Her aide eyed her with uncertain eyes.

“I’m- not sure, Your Excellency,” he replied.

A cold jolt ran down her spine. That large galaxy she was marveling at just moments ago was every bit as dangerous as it was exciting; the Empire, Sith Order, and Black Sun were only a few of the threats that faced the Republic.

Kalantha eyed her aide with a severe expression. “We need to get the senators to safety,” she instructed.

“Now.”

Tags: THR Senate​

 

[Sars Sarad]

2A
Lorn Reingard | Aiden Porte | Aurelian Veruna | Jerec Asyr | Blacksun​

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The Cataclyst Raider broke the atmosphere manuever around defensive fire from the ground.

Turbolasers opened up alongside antipersonal turrets, peppering the walls of the High Republic Temple and the courtyard beyond. Soldiers caught in barrage would be shredded, Jedi would discover that their lightsabers were not enough to protect them. Dirt was ripped up, small craters torn out of the earth wherever the heavy firepower struck.

The Cataclyst made a single strafing run, passing over the High Republic Temple. A single figure fell from its hangar bay, descending down towards the chaotic battlefield below that had transformed the courtyard.

When Sarad made planet fall he extended his manipulation of the force outwards, creating a bubble of telekinetic energy that both slowed his descent and exploded. The Telekinetic burst would manifest as a massive concussion burst that ripped outwards, throwing bodies in its wake and ripping up soil to hurl as debris in its wake. When it cleared he stood at the epicenter of a small crater that had formed a dip in the ground.

He dressed in his telltale duster which hung low, down to his ankles and covered him almost entirely. His right arm extended outwards, the lightsaber he held igniting in a phosphorescent blaze that radiated outwards with waves of intense heat. His light hand, palm open and fingers splayed wide did likewise as though he were opening himself to whatever came at him first...

"I am a Son of Hades!"

...he proclaimed...

"I f*ck the Shirayan Temple like I own her!"

...typically he was more subdued then this but something in Sarad had begun to change, his eyes radiated an ochre that signified the power focusing within him.

Using his left hand, which he swept inwards he'd draw back his duster to reveal the Vibroblades on his belt. That wasn't all though, today he'd brought 'Old Sin' with him, the archaic phase knife which he'd tucked into the waistline of belt, hidden at the small of his back. Just like old times.

Eyes fleshed, he sensed the force flowing around him. It was a river, water that washed over him and he was a stone that stood amidst that flow of water. As his senses expanded outwards he could feel others, stones set in the water similar to him that the force identified as it washed around them.

 

[Xandyr Carrick]

1 A

BLASTER
Loria Sorelle Dominic Praxon

Xandyr was reading the latest Swan Papers in a lobby away from the Senate Hall. He was here under a bodyguard pass, which felt rather crass as a title to the companion.

He felt two noises through the floor. His shoes had leather soles. He liked to feel the streets beneath his feet and he preferred exceptional footwear that didn't clomp around loudly on hard floors. The first felt like an explosion. The second felt like the great doors being closed.

He heard hurried footsteps and stood up just as two men smashed into the room.

"Hands up! Anyone in here a senator?"

Xandyr slowly stood and brought his hands out. They looked like cheap mercenaries. Barely functioning humans to be used as meat to test the reactions of the guards before real professionals did the work.

"You! You look like one!"

A blaster was pointed in his face. How crude.

"Thank you my good man, I just had the waistcoat tailored. I'm afraid I'm not a senator. Why are you looking for senators?"

He brought his hands to his waistcoat and tugged as the hem to straighten it. The merc looked away. Which was a bad idea when someone had a hand inches from a blaster.

Xandyr's right hand grabbed his blaster. His left arm shot up, forearm swatting the mercenaries blaster aside before forming a fist.

The merc took the punch but dropped to his knees. He looked shocked at how hard he'd been hit. Xandyr didn't even look away as he shot the other mercenary in the centre of the chest.

"You absolute fucking amateur," Xandyr muttered. "Rude too. I asked you a question. Why are you looking..."

He pointed his blaster - old and ornate - at the man's forehead.

"...for senators?"

 

[Dominic Praxon]

The water was taking forever to boil. Dominic had glanced at it twice already, willing it to give him a reprieve. Something else to talk about, something to distract from conversation. This had been a bad idea. Elnara had been pleasant enough, but Marcellan Sorelle...Dominic swore that the man had a gaze that could slice a man in two.

"No sugar?" He asked for the third time. There was only a nod in response this time.

Marcellan had danced about the matter, alluding to how he felt about Dominic and Loria spending time together in public, perish the thought that it should be in private too. Still, Dominic intended to proceed.

"Tenith blend is a special mix I acquired a taste for in my junior year," he commented, regarding the tea that he was preparing for his guests.

Marcellan and Elnara sat next to one another on separate chairs, angled towards the table in the middle of the room. Loria sat on the simple three-seater on the opposing side. Dominic had purposefully directed them to the seating arrangement. He hoped it would subconsciously put Elnara and Marcellan in a place of separation, and disconnect, while Loria would be seen by all to already be close with Dominic, despite propriety being maintained with a seat's width between them.

The water urn finally, graciously, decided to come to the boil, and Dominic turned back to take the pitcher into his hand. With a few easy movements, water was surreptitiously poured and he turned about with all three cups of tea managed between two hands. "Ah. Here it is...please do give your honest opinion, Lady Sorelle," he said, as cups were laid before his guests. Elnara was getting careful attention.

Win the mother, win the war.

Dominic settled into his own seat at last, tea in hand, though the tension in his shoulders betrayed him.

Now, he thought, before Marcellan sharpens his knives again.

“Lord and Lady Sorelle,” he began, eyes flicking briefly toward Loria before returning to her parents, “your daughter’s company has been a great honor to me recently. I would ask - formally, and with full respect - that you permit our acquaintance to continue. Even, perhaps, to meet more often, without…unnecessary concern for appearances.”

He let the words hang a moment, feeling the weight of Marcellan’s gaze and the quickening of his own pulse.

The room seemed to tighten around him and in the awkwardness, Dominic's eyes sought Loria's for courage.

And in that moment...all hell broke loose. Dominoc shot to his feet, hand instinctually coming up to shield Loria though no one was in the room bar them. "Xandyr...what is going on?" He said into his comms unit while he made his way to the door. His hand hovered, preparing to lock them down.

Loria Sorelle Xandyr Carrick Bastila Sal-Soren Mercy​

 

[Jerec Asyr]

A truly memorable stunt needed to respect the location. The problem here was the low, low information available on the Jedi temple called Shiraya's Sanctuary. Even its existence and coordinates had apparently cost an awful lot to procure.

The Gallo Mountains were a storied and diverse world unto themselves: just knowing the Sanctuary was here told Jerec very little. One oldtimer with a Darkwalker tattoo had walked him through the history en route, the Emperor Palpatine connections, the crystal caves, the beautiful resort city of Dee'ja Peak, and of course the huge variety of criminal hideouts before and during the Gulag Plague.

Jerec had taken a minute to pay his respects at the legendary Skaak Tipper Cave, once home to the legendary Skaak Tippers. At that legendary cave, looking out over the mountain streams and resting his feet in a waterfall pool, he'd pondered untrustworthy topographic maps, then — with a few hours before the main event — gone into Dee'ja Peak for a nice bit of shopping. Sporting goods, primarily.

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OBJECTIVE 2A
Others in environs: Lorn Reingard Aiden Porte Sars Sarad ​

Gorgeous territory, waterfalls aplenty. Treacherous kayak country. Coughing water out both sides of his neck, Jerec paddled vigorously through some kind of Jedi training course. The aggressive current yanked him forward with a vigor that made him question the wisdom of his chosen travel method.

The kayak slewed through picture-perfect whitewater and shot off the crest of a crystalline waterfall. Jerec abandoned his paddle and covered his face.

The splashdown was titanic. He and the kayak went entirely under the surface of the galaxy's most tranquil meditation pool and bobbed up energetically with similar structural complaints.

Moaning, groaning, and sopping wet from every crevice of his highly collectible Jensaarai cortosis armor, Jerec hauled himself from the kayak's wreckage. He beheld the elegant landscaping of Shiraya's Sanctuary and the building itself, which had been invisible until very recently. Good to know the coordinates had been right. He wouldn't have wanted to be the one to explain the mistake to the mercs and Bando Gora currently making a much louder and less imaginative incursion.


EQUIPMENT

• Jensaarai armor
• Vibro-arbir
• Squib garbage grabber
• Kayak

 

[Kasmion Duum]

OBJECTIVE 2B
SHIRAYA'S SANCTUARY — LIBRARY
Others in environs: Balun Dashiell

The goal, as Kasmion was given to understand it, was wholesale looting in a very rapid time frame while the battle outside kept Jedi occupied. No plan survived contact with the enemy and this one least of all, foreseeably.

Leaving others to attempt the indiscriminate part of the looting, Kasmion absented himself down the nearest ranks of shelves. His main interest in coming along was that the Jedi had a millennia-long reputation of crowding out other traditions and hoarding or assimilating their arts. He hailed from two such traditions himself and intended to find out whether the library had any material on either one. Then take it.

To that end, the swiftly organizing opposition would find a large blue man, somehow far ahead of the other raiders despite his obvious cane, placidly using a catalog terminal. Some might even take him for a civilian.

EQUIPMENT

• Cane (Wielu Saberfish ivory)
• Repulsor belt (concealed)
• Compact light blaster pistol (concealed)

 

[Aiden Porte]

2A
Lorn Reingard Sars Sarad Jerec Asyr
​

Turbolaser emplacements rose from concealed housings in the parapets, their barrels whirring as they locked onto the raiders banking overhead. Lances of green fire speared the sky, forcing enemy ships that were descending into evasive maneuvers. From the lower terraces, antipersonnel cannons unfolded on hydraulic arms, spitting streams of scarlet bolts into the ranks of Black Sun mercenaries and their Bando Gora allies. The shriek of ion cannons followed, beams cutting arcs across the battlefield and shorting out enemy speeders mid-charge.

Followed behind them war-droids along their flank. They leapt from their alcoves, igniting plasma pikes as they landed amidst the courtyard melee, their every strike timed to complement the Jedi's defense.

And over it all, the Temple itself seemed to exhale through the Force. A resonance spread outward, subtle but undeniable, like a great heartbeat aligning with those who fought to protect it. The walls might burn, the stones might crack, but the spirit of the Shiraya was awake now, and every mechanism, every hidden arsenal, sang in its defense.

The shockwave hit Aiden like a hammer. One moment he was braced against the tide of mercenaries, his saber locking a blaster bolt into a ricochet that saved a temple guard's life, the next, the world came apart in a roar of soil and pressure.

He skidded back across the courtyard stones, his boots gouging lines until he braced, lightsaber raised high to shield against the torrent of debris. Even still, grit stung his face, robes whipped by the concussive storm. The Force howled with anguish: pain, fear, the ragged gasp of lives snuffed out in an instant.

When the dust cleared, he saw him.

At the heart of a fresh crater stood Sarad. Cloaked in that long duster like a shadow ripped from the void, saber flaring with a heat that warped the air around it. His voice carried, mad and triumphant, a heretic's litany shouted into the bones of the Temple itself. Son of Hades. Desecrator. His proclamation was not just heard but felt, like an insult pressed into the heart of the Shiraya.

He turned his saber down and forward, its blue light steady.

"You've come to defile sacred ground," Aiden called, his voice hard, steady, carried by the Force. "But this Temple does not belong to you, it never will. And you will not leave it standing in ash."

Around him, he felt the younglings trembling deeper within the halls, their fear like glass bells quivering in the storm. He steadied them as best he could, letting them feel his presence, his calm. Whatever Sarad had become, Aiden would not let those under his care no despair.

He stepped forward onto the lip of the crater, meeting the ochre glow of Sarad's eyes with his own clear blue.

 

[Sars Sarad]

2A
Aiden Porte | Lorn Reingard | Aurelian Veruna | Jerec Asyr | Black Sun​

---

An unfamiliar voice answered Sarad.

As the force flowed over Aiden Porte , passing around him Sarad would have felt his presence like a separate stone set in the river that was the metaphysical essence flowing between them, around them; tethering them together in a sense.

Once Aiden appeared on the lip of the crater Sarad would tip his head back, regarding him while the ochre of his gaze flared before replying...

"Perhaps."

...he mused, his thumb running across his belt...

"If this temple will not burn you may have to suffice."

In a flash his left hand slid across the hilt of one of the vibroblades on his belt, pulling it free as it drew back.

An extension of the arm followed, his wrist snapping in unison as he released the vibroblade. As he threw his fingers grazed across the hilt, his eyes flashed briefly. The Vibroblade split, becoming half a dozen of the same blade as it seemingly duplicated itself; short lived doppelgangers that would blink out of existence before to long but very real in the moment. They'd fly towards Aiden targeting his pectorals, arms and legs ensuring that they covered a large area of effect.

Sarad followed.

With lightsaber flourishing in his grip, his duster wavering around him he sprung towards Aiden to make a series of probing jabs and diagonal swings to test his opponents weapon and maneuver it where he wanted.

 

[Loria Sorelle]

LORIA SORELLE
The Senate, Theed, Naboo

Awkward would best describe the situation. When Dominic offered to arrange a meeting between himself and her parents, she hadn't expected an arrangement to be made so soon; And neither did Marcellan & Elenara.

Loria's gaze sheepishly flicked between the table between them and her parents as Dominic prepared tea. His words were kind yet the Sorelle's knew the game all to well for they too played the strings of diplomacy at every opportunity.

As Dominic, poured, her eyes measured her parents' reactions. Marcella, as stoic as ever, his ironclad gaze piercing through whatever it laid upon, his arms folded seriously.

Elenara, her mother, much warmer and diplomatic; Though Loria struggled to tell if her warm smile and kind demeanour was for show or whether she truly meant it.

'Thank you, Mr Praxon,' she spoke on behalf of the pair of them, accepting the tea. She took a careful sip before a pleasant smirk tugged at her lips. 'Quite lovely, tenith blend you say?'

Loria's eyes caught Dominic's, she offer a warm yet nervous smile, meant to reassure. Yet her own nervousness betrayed her kindness, and she was positive that all could tell.

Her gaze lingered upon Dominic as he spoke, a sense of warmth washed over her as his words spoke another truth: That perhaps what they had was real.

As his nervous gaze returned to her, she boldly yet gently placed her hand upon his arm in support, her eyes then shifting to her parents sat across from her.

'We feel-'

Chaos. Lights out.

Marcellan instinctively shot up moved to behind his chair, placing himself between the door and those in the room. Loria couldn't hold her concern as Dominic instinctively moved to shield her. She found it quite sweet.

'What was that?' Loria asked the room, hoping for an answer.

Dominic Praxon , Bastila Sal-Soren , Mercy & Xandyr Carrick

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

Objective 1A
Decarii Tithe | Liana Organa
Vs Tohu ​

It was supposed to be just another routine day at the office.

The transition into her new role had been steady, and Sibylla began to find her rhythm as Voice of the Royal Houses. Her hours were filled with meetings, revisions, and negotiations with Royal Houses representatives and foreign dignitaries alike. Today, she invited Advisor Decarii Tithe to review a draft of legislation to ensure the letter of the law matched its intent.

Also present was Liana Organa , Alderaan's junior Ambassador, only just beginning her internship. Sibylla had taken a personal interest in welcoming her. She remembered the weight of her own early days as a Junior Representative and had wanted to ease the girl's steps where she could. The mentorship was as much about guiding her as it was about strengthening ties with foreign dignitaries, as planting the seeds of alliances that might grow in time.

The conversation had just turned to Liana's goals for the program when everything went dark.

The lights snapped out at once. The steady hum of the office stilled. For a moment there was only the sound of their own breathing, hushed against the sudden silence.

Sibylla's hazel eyes flicked upward, narrowing as her pulse kicked. This wasn't a simple outage.

The instinct she had come to trust, the one that always stirred when things went sideways bloomed within her chest. The blaster-resistant karlini silk gown she wore was ceremonial, meant for the Assembly, but that was not her only defense. With a quick motion, she activated her personal shield. From her desk drawer she withdrew two more, sliding them across the polished surface toward Decarii and Liana.

"Here," she instructed, her voice doing its best to keep calm but nonetheless firm in her instructions.

"Keep it close and attach it where it is easily accessible. If trouble comes, I'd rather we be ready."

The door burst open a moment later. Royal Guards swept inside, tension in every line of their armor.

"My Lady, you must evacuate, now."

Sibylla rose at once, skirts whispering over marble as she strode around her desk toward the guards, her lips pressed into a thin line.

"What of High Chancellor Kalantha and King Veruna?" she demanded, already falling into step as the guards signaled for Decarii and Liana to follow. Both Kalantha and Aurelian Veruna were the priority along with the rest of the Senators.

"I need to get in touch with Senator Sarn and Senator Vexx." While she was sure Dominique Vexx would be more than capable of taking care of herself, Sibylla wasn't sure of the Ithorian.

 

[Liana Organa]

​

Sibylla Abrantes - Decarii Tithe - Tohu​

Today was a day Liana had long been waiting for. Mom and Dad had given her everything she needed to succeed in life, except for the independence to prove it. It took some pleading, but they relented soon enough. The High Republic approved the motion not longer after. Liana was going to be Alderaan's very own Junior Ambassador. The announcement was met with celebration among the people of Alderaan; Their young princess was growing up, and in a time of galactic instability, her new role was a show of goodwill between them and the Naboo.

There was something full circle about it. After all, distant ancestor Leia Organa was a biological Naberrie herself. It was a connection Liana both admired and dreaded. Her pedigree came with expectations and privileges. Not just from ancient forebears but from her own parents. Liana wanted to be more than just an extension of the name Organa. She might not have gotten this opportunity without it, but she could if she could show her potential beyond it, then this would all be worthwhile. That was what she had been waiting for.

But today had different plans for Liana. Her only stressors were supposed to be the official onboarding process, and the creeping, overwhelming sensation of being somewhere she didn't belong. To Sibylla Abrantes ' credit, she had done a good job already of defusing Liana's anxieties with some common ground. But when the power went out, it became clear that a case of imposter syndrome would be the least of her worries. For Liana, the realization actually came a few seconds earlier. She was already looking up towards the lights before the shut off. A gut feeling overcame her, "What's that about?" She asked in hushed tones.

A slurry of words unbefitting her position began swirling about Liana's thoughts. She fumbled with the personal shield, and still startled when the doors swung open, even though she already knew it was coming. "Is something happening?" Liana followed close behind as they left the room, and suddenly clutched her forehead as if hit by an abrupt migraine. Those gut feelings suddenly warped into muddled reveries, flashing behind her eyes even as she tried to wipe them away. Deception. Chaos. Violence. Liana looked behind them, as if waiting for a monster to leap out of some shadowed corner, "Something's happening." She turned towards the others, "We're under attack. We should move faster."