Faction Old Dogs, Same Tricks

[Delila Castillon]

Location : Oswaft Station | Affiliation : Levantine Sanctum | Tags : Nursing Home Crew
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Two Weeks Prior :

It had started with a simple message addressing both of them. Basic in nature, which caused even more trouble.

Oswaft Station - Navigation Map Room 38-A
​

A date had followed with no signature. Not many these days would know about Oswaft Station and its location as a Levantine Sanctum center of learning. Delila had only visited the station once. Overrun with Jedi, it certainly wasn't her ideal place to spend time. That had been the second iteration of the Sanctum, more Jedi focused and less on wandering the 'verse and assisting folk.

"Think about it Xin, how many people in the 'verse know we exist?" Hand was held up, her five fingers spread out. "This many, and I'm being generous. Now how many know we travel together?" Fingers curled down, leaving the first two standing. Dells went ahead and waggled the first one. "That finger is Merrill. I'm pretty sure he's not alive anymore." Second finger moved. "Thats Adric. We left him what....three years ago? He'd be sixteen now? This seems more logical. We did say we'd be back to visit and check in, maybe its finally safe enough."

"Levantine Space. Classroom. It all points to the kid. Maybe he wants us to break him out of the cult we left him at."

They hadn't really been in a position to let their teenage stowaway stay aboard the Saegassum. As much as it pained her to admit it, the weird Jedi sect out in the middle of nowhere had been the best bet at the kid having a normal life. A safe life.

"Whats the worst that could happen?"

Current Day :

Delila slowly wandered down the ramp once they had landed. Certainly not in high in population as it was in its heyday, she was surprised by the amount of beings still living and working at the station. She supposed this far out it was difficult to send children in for education and this was probably the best thing most families from a modest income could afford. Having been in a similar position as a youngster, she knew most of these backwater kids turned to the military - it was nice to see a different option available.

After consulting a location map just outside the hangar bay, it was a meandering trip down to the map room. She kept her head on the swivel, it could be an elaborate trap, weird joke, or some long-lost friend trying to get into contact. Delila was personally leaning towards elaborate trap, but she also didn't want Xin to be right, so any concerns that would typically be voiced were kept best to herself.

Drawing close to the map room, hand slid down to the blaster at her hip, signet ring glinting in the harsh lighting. Finger went to the trigger but she didn't pull the weapon from its holster, not yet. With her luck she'd end up pulling it on some idiot kid and traumatize them for life.

"Here goes nothing."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

Truth be told, Jorus wasn't sure if he'd received the message or sent it. Two weeks ago was a long time. He could probably have rooted around his comm logs to make sure one way or the other, and he'd been meaning to, definitely.

All that to say, when he clumped down into the dark of Navigation Map Room 38-B from a utility hatch, he wasn't sure if he was actually going to encounter anyone. A worst-case scenario came to mind: that he might have been both the message's sender and sole receiver, an ourobouros of senescence.

So far the lecture hall was empty. He'd taught at the Levantine Astronautical Academy on this station, taught navigation in rooms a lot like this and probably this one too. When footsteps sounded outside one of the doors and he hid behind the lecture podium - the worst hiding place in sight - the podium sure felt familiar. And oh, hey, he wasn't the first to hide here. The initials MDM - Mara D'Lessio Merrill - had been scratched on the base of the podium. A spark of very old indignation lit up and winked out.

The footsteps moved on.

After silence reigned for a bit, Jorus got out his comms. "Saggy?"

"Breewheep."

"It was 38-B, right?"

"Breewheep."

"The message to come here."

"Breewheep."

"38-A? Kark it sideways, I'm in the wrong room. Thanks bud." He unlimbered himself achily from behind the podium and headed for 38-A via the utility corridors.

As he went to enter the correct room, he realized he'd forgotten, again, to have Saggy check whether he'd been the one who actually sent the message. All signs pointed to no, but he just couldn't be sure.

He shrugged and slouched into 38-A.

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

As Jorus began his walk about, Tessa waited until her unobtrusive link to his ship indicated he was approaching the right room before disengaging her suits' mag-locks and dropping to the landing pad. She was even kind enough to fold the suit up and stow it back in the emergency supply box it was in. Raking a circuitry-laced hand through spiky red hair, the techno-savant cocked an eye to the dangling lid of said box. It appeared now that when she opened it, it was a one use container and no way to fully seal it back.

Digging into her pack tied to the hull beam next to said box, she grabbed the duct tape and spliced several strips of it, securing the lid back on as well as a shred of paper with the note of 'Sorry - T' taped to the now totally secured and definitely good as new box. Shrugging, Tessa slipped overalls on over the bodysuit that looked more like tool belt that covered her entire body, and zipped it up. With a roll of a shoulder or pop of the arm almost any repair or slicing device she could feasibly need was to hand in this garment, the overalls were old CEC issue dock-hands, and hid the under-layer well enough she looked less conspicuous.

Untying the backpack, she set it on her shoulders and shoved a whirring eye-stalk back down with a gentle push and long-suffering sigh.

"No VG... Stay in there, gramps is doing something dangerous and needs a babysitter"

Sauntering down the ramp and after Jorus, the Corellian-Kiffar hummed a jazzy little beat as she traced Jorus' steps.

Jorus Q. Merrill | Delila Castillon

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Oswaft Station, was definitely something he hadn't heard much about in a long while. The Warden of the Sky, yes, he was wearing that hat for anything around that station had nodded and checked in with a few people, namely the eldest kids, and the pilot Cuan Kunn. Making a trip to Kattada in order to grab Celeste Rigel , should she be amenable to a trip out to the Wild Space station. A bit of a cryptic message for sure, but well, Oswaft was sill operational, wasn't it?

Regardless, the relic of his known as the Tachyon Rising, a fairly well done rebuild of the YT-2000 freighter out of CEC had made its way towards the station, and with the reversion from hyperspace, he saw a few other familiar ships, namely an aged out X-Wing that had to be flown by his old wingman Cuan Kunn , and his son's Defender-class corvette, another rebuild compliments of Starchaser Enterprises.

He was fairly certain only Kaia had a new ship.

With touch down, the Warden had powered down the ship and prepped to disembark. Grabbing one of the two cloaks he had aboard, and pointing to Porter. "Just… you know, keep her warmed up. And maybe turn her around?" Checking his data pad, it said 38-A. With that he checked his lightsaber was on his hip and walked the halls.

It had that feeling of walking your primary school, decades later. Familiar, but foreign. Old but not stale.

 

[Xin Boa]

"Think about it Xin, how many people in the 'verse know we exist?"

"Whats the worst that could happen?"

Xin really didn't like tempting fate. For the longest time he had been convinced that the universe was against him. Xin had slowly learned to accept that dark days would come and that this was simply a part of life.

Fate had brought him good days too. Good years, even.

Xin stood just back from Dell's right shoulder as she navigated through the station. His partner had been a serious part of the rebellion and several movements. All he had done was elevate himself from a jail sentence to a freighter captain.

He did enjoy the stories of old days. The Sanctum wasn't a name she raised often. They had been keeping their heads down, but always knew that some things would have them risk the security they had bought over the last few years.

 

[Delila Castillon]

Opening the door, Delila came face to face with 'the worst that could happen' : a Jedi. She internally groaned at the sight. Granted the fact one was here was no surprise, they basically ran the station. Didn't mean she wanted to be forced to interact with one.

Eyes adjusted off the Jedi. Others were here, some she didn't recognize. They didn't outwardly appear to be Jedi though, which was curious as to why they had been called in. Why they all had been called in.


Then it was abundantly clear : Merrill.

"Huh, I thought you were dead."

No hello, no how have you been. It had just kind of slipped out as the first thing on her mind.

Hand went off her blaster as she took in the room. Holographic map danced above their heads, controls in the center.

"So who called this meeting?"

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

Delila Castillon Tessa Sedaire Xin Boa Coren Starchaser

This lecture hall had lights, unlike a good chunk of the station. Once Jorus' eyes adjusted, he beheld the usual suspects. Dells and her guy, Coren, Sedaire the Younger.

"Hey, I don't think it was me," said Jorus, hands up and empty. "Fuzzy on that."

He gave Coren the eye.

"My guess is it's this one's fault. I got a little maudlin with him at Sedaire's bar on Corellia. Might have accidentally slightly implied I felt unfulfilled and bored. Slightly."

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Sometimes it paid to be an old hand. It meant that one, you had seen the galaxy and knew the problems and found a few solutions, and two, you knew the people who may help. And no, Coren Starchaser wasn't thinking he knew all the solutions. Or that what he was proposing would help. But the thing of it was? It didn't matter. There was a part of time after the Alliance of Sullust, during the ORC/OPA time.

A few were here, and that was good. Some of the old comm channels from the Rebel Alliance and the Underground worked. Some of the people from the Sanctum itself kept their own on.

As a few were greeting each other, in the way old ones were want to do, Coren couldn't help but give a laugh.

"Call it? You don't remember? Talkin' big game back in the Green Devil?"

Gave Coren and Jorus the bright idea for this little meeting.

"Well, it doesn't matter who was the one who called it. We're all here, and we're all Levantines, or adjacent." He gave a nod to a few others as they came in. Julius's kid, one of his own, the Sullustan he'd flown a hundred sorties with in the old days. The redhead Delila and her squidman. Good people.

"So, It couldn't hurt to start doing some of our old work, yeah?"

 

[Celeste Rigel]

Celeste couldn't help but smile as Coren Starchaser walked ahead.

This was familiar ground – for him, at least. For her own part, Celeste did remember the Levantine Sanctum. Though, she'd been well steeped in Silver Jedi life back then. Way back then.

Since then, life had changed quite a lot.

She'd been Chief Healer for a time, then wife to Coren, then mother to the twins. Now, Celeste wasn't quite sure just what to call herself. Perhaps, she'd find purpose anew alongside her explorer husband. Slipping in at his side, she offered an amiable smile to those present. Mostly, they were names she'd heard many times before – some were downright legendary.

Coren was quick to join in on the banter. He seemed in his element, and Celeste brought her hand up to stifle a small chuckle. Still, it was good to see him like this again.

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

Theme

Brushing unruly hair out of her eyes, Tessa eyed people she had mostly heard stories about from her dad. Jorus she knew, and had spent time with. Coren she had at least met. The others, like the older redhead in the room? They probably belonged to names she knew, but not much more. Watching Jorus ramble, she cocked a grin and finally haunted a hand up in a half-wave as if introduction, light glinting off the Force-imbued circuitry in her hands.

"Tessa Sedaire. My dad sent me in his place, as he's busy playing soldier, still. Something about Mandalorians and the Galactic peace and all that. And gramps, you definitely likely set this up. You were very reminiscent back at dad's place. You even called me to help get that old boat flying again He said this was more my jam anyway."

With an awkward look at Coren, she pointed at the freshly minted lightsaber at her hip. It still felt like a foreign anchor to her.

"He also said for you to teach me how to not stab myself with this.... thing... Apparently, I'm not great at it. Who knew?"

Jorus Q. Merrill | Coren Starchaser | Delila Castillon | Xin Boa | Celeste Rigel

 

[Xin Boa]

"Huh, I thought you were dead."

Xin turned to Dells at the comment. He didn't remember her getting up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

"I love how you all be like I'm bored, lets start a movement to save thousands a'people," Xin said with an amused shrug.

The nautolan wasn't certain what he could offer, but having grown in himself in the last few years he was quite comfortable to support Dells and listen in. He was just glad it wasn't a trap. This time.

 

[Delila Castillon]

"I love how you all be like I'm bored, lets start a movement to save thousands a'people," Xin said with an amused shrug.

Xin had echoed her thoughts exactly. It seemed like a bunch of old men had got drunk and deciding to save the galaxy was in order. Sedaire had even sent his rather plucky looking daughter in his place.

Dells didn't know how to feel. She and Xin had been far from bored over the last decade. Half the time she purposely avoided learning any news in the 'verse besides what space lanes to avoid. Sedaire's kid mentioning some Mando conflict was the first she had heard of it. Didn't typically matter out where they flew.

"I would have to think about it." Dells turned to Xin, whatever decision they came to would have to be hammered about between them. "It also depends on details and logistics. I'm done sending kids off in harms way at my direction."

Last time Delila didn't remember giving orders in the Sanctum but in anything someone had to lead. That wasn't her anymore.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

It was always interesting to think of the circles that Coren and Celeste had been in, that were always nearby and adjacent to one another but never the same circle. The Corellian had worked with the Levantines while Celeste was with the Silvers, then met during the blending of the two organizations. And now the pair were here, meeting old faces, and some new, to try to find their places in the galaxy. Even Coren wasn't looking for a war any longer.

Celeste's beliefs and approach helped with that. But also, the man was tired.

Looking to Xin, Coren offered a half shrug and Corellian smirk.

"I mean, it can't be all that bad. The kids are handling the wars, but the thought is that there is always something to clean up after, people to help, and beings who long to be free.

"And if we can prevent some kids from going to war? I don't see that as a bad thing."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

"And if we can prevent some kids from going to war? I don't see that as a bad thing."

That part hit Jorus and latched on like a krizar pupa in a slime pit. Mara had been barely an adult when she went to war. Her choice, and his inability to stop her, had led to tragedies. Had changed his daughter at such a fundamental level that she'd never be free of it.

"I'm with Dells on this," he said at last. "I'm done being any kind of fighting commander. Don't trust institutions, don't have the heart anymore to send kids off to die. But you're not wrong, Coren. Just wish I saw a clearer path from here to there."

 

[Chloe Blake]

Delila Castillon Coren Starchaser Tessa Sedaire Xin Boa Celeste Rigel

Well-worn boots quietly padded over the durasteel floor, a subtle announcement of the Corellisi late-comer. The years had served their time to the secretive Warden of the Sky, but their age decorated the Corellian woman well. Light blonde hair streaked with silver fell over her shoulders in soft waves, framing ocean-blue eyes weathered with crinkles at their corners. A lifetime of light laugh lines painted over a heart-shaped face where a gentle smile would quietly tug upwards as she took in the sight of the small collective in front of her, passing the door threshold of 38-A and into the room.

Dells caught Chloe's gaze first; even under the map and lecture hall lights' holographic lights, the years could not fade their vibrant crimson luster. From there were several new faces. She had not met Dell's beau nor Sedaire the younger. Celeste was also unfamiliar to the Warden. Then there were others well-known. Coren; for sure, the years had been good to him. It was his voice that she heard discussing preventing kids from going to war until another joined that still resonated with familiarity and a deep affection. Slightly gravely by age, but dear none the less. Jorus.

"Kas tulisha abia al port," Chloe said in response to a call to action for anything that can prevent younglings and children from going to war. Her mind brought up the image of Trextan and Choli, whom she took under her wing in the wake of the last of several wars. It was Olys Corellisi, a token phrase to indicate that "Chaos opens the door to opportunity, a familiar ground to us all.” Chole relayed, indicating that the scenario in question allowed this group to move as they did best.

"Ol'val, min chumani," she followed in greeting to those friends, warmth radiating from her face as she made her way slowly inside.

"It is good to see you alive and well."

 

[Tessa Sedaire]

She was silent as those she considered her elders and in some cases, betters, debated and talked. Well, not really debated.. Opined at each other, more like. Seemed to be a thing with this crowd her dad valued so much, and she found herself regarding it with affection rather than frustration. It all came from concern, rather than conceit. That made the difference, she supposed.

"War won't always be able to be avoided if you're reducing folk. Nor will taking a side sometimes... But, it doesn't mean we fight for the generals. It means we fight for the poor folk they conscript and order about, or seduce with waved flags and fistfuls of credits. We can be the other option. Lotta folk play soldier because there isn't anything or anywhere else to go to out of boredom, or desperation. We can give 'em food, space, and a chance to be themselves and contribute in like fashion. As long as that's our goal, I'm in 110%."

Speaking way more seriously and passionately than usual, the typically cool and breezy pilot stepped back into herself by scrubbing her hands across the spacer's leather pads on the knees of her CEC coveralls, as if suddenly her palms ached or itched. Too much like her dad, and sometimes let her mouth get ahead of her. Plus, these folks had a way of making you want to believe, even the ones she barely knew like the other redhead, Dells.

Jorus Q. Merrill | Coren Starchaser | Delila Castillon | Xin Boa | Celeste Rigel | Chloe Blake

 

[Delila Castillon]

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Xin standing with his arms crossed. Knowing his body language, it was clear he was listening but to others he might just look bored, so a slight elbow to his side would hopefully perk him up. She was the skeptical one, not him. A blone entered the room and Dells smiled back at Chloe. She hadn't seen the woman in ages at this point and it was great to see her looking none the worse for wear.

The young redhead spoke and Dells couldn't have said it better herself. She didn't remember much about Sediare but it seemed his daughter had a good held on her shoulders.

"The young redhead took the words from my mouth. You've got a natural penchant for leadership and rousing speeches, shame its wasted on the Jedi but I digress. I say, if we're all in agreement, to start the Sanctum back up again. Seems like we need each other more than ever in our advancing age, and maybe the 'verse needs us too."

 

[Jorus Q. Merrill]

It felt like the old days. No - like the good parts of the old days. Most of the people in this room had meant a lot to Jorus' senses of self and purpose over the last indeterminate number of years. Some looked older than others, but all of them carried those years. How many tens of thousands of hyperspace jumps had each of them taken, with relativistic shields in better or worse repair, through spatial anomalies and warps and phenomena of every kind? Time - not a continuum but a fabric of moments, a chain of inflection points - was specific to each of them. Every spacer who stood here was a timeline unto themself. Those lines intersected on occasion: he'd crossed paths with these people since the old days. But sometimes he wasn't sure whether those intersections happened in the same sequence. Ships in the night could get temporally strange, just one way in which a connection could mean something different to one of you than the other.

Every replationship of his life had mostly fit that pattern, his sister and wife and daughter included. Even this late in the game, he couldn't decide what was good or bad or right or wrong about this life. So important, then, to hold to the moments of connection and unity, and let timelines weave together for a while when they could.