Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Dominion On the Rox | GA Dominion of Roxuli

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OLD IRON
LISTEN
L'yoom Ka L'yoom Ka

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"I am Kin'ya'joom, but you can just call me Kin. It is nice to meet you, L'yoom and Ripley." She offered a small smile, but it did not touch her eyes. "Have you come with the delegation?"

Shaking her head, Ripley finally spoke.

"No, we haven't. We're here on a small scale, to speak with the families who could not get a meeting. Every experience is important in helping you all gain ground."

The woman's smile grew wider has she nodded. The child reached for her mother's face, but like a practiced dance, she shifted out of the way. Ripley could feel envy rise within, but whether it was for the happy girl or the thought of motherhood, she could not discern.

"It is best I take you to my partner, then. We both work at the mine, but he is a shift leader." She explained quickly.

Turning, she beckoned for them to follow. Ripley complied without question. It dawned on her Kin must have been tougher than she first thought; tending children and working manual labor seemed no easy feat. The lesson stayed as they weaved through the the lines of rundown houses. Each housed a family of surviors she realized- it was a strange thing to be concious of.

Finally, they approached Kin's own hovel. Rusted metal walls, a yard of concrets. The chiss man, dressed in what could only be described as dirty rags, sitting upon the porch looked up as the ladies drew near.

"Kin, are these the Jedi?"

"Yes. Separate from the delegation, but here to listen to us, nonetheless."

He stood, offering a hand to Ripley first. She gave it a tight squeeze. He then moved to L'yoom with the same offer.

"Anything you need to know- please, just ask."
 
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Objective 1: Meddling Kids

Location: Outlander Station, Cargo Bays
Allies: Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren
Foes: Dhalinar Greystar Dhalinar Greystar , Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo , Michael Sardun Michael Sardun , Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina
Uncertain: Pyrrah Tae Pyrrah Tae


Jedi. The Mongrel skidded to a halt, letting out a stream of vile curses under his breath, as he saw what faced him from across the cargo bay. In a half-remembered life, long before his torture and dark rebirth as a servant of the Maw, he had worshipped these mage-knights as heroes. They had seemed to be rare demigods walking among men. Now, the marauder knew the truth: Jedi were was common as dirt. He ran into them every time he turned around, until it seemed that half the Alliance military was composed of them. He'd heard that there was an entire Jedi-run government out in the Expansion Region; the mystic warriors must breed like womp rats.

Their disturbing commonality did not make them any less deadly, however. They might call themselves guardians of the peace, but those that The Mongrel had faced so far - and he'd faced no small few - had been mystical killing machines, each of them capable of cutting down dozens of men with their magic and laser-swords. The marauder had killed many, many people from two dozen different species, many of them skilled warriors, but in all his confrontations with these self-proclaimed warriors of the light, he had never killed one of them. Each time he had been lucky to hold them back long enough to escape with his life, and he had the scars to show for it.

But each time he'd faced them, he'd learned a bit more about fighting them. He stood a slightly better chance now.

These two were an odd pair. One was tall, well-muscled, with a warrior's scars - one eye had been cut out and replaced with some kind of rock, and smoke curled up from it. The other, over a foot shorter and twenty-some years younger, was a willowy, pale-haired woman wielding a pair of laser-swords. That was new... and concerning. The Mongrel's probing eyes caught the tremor in her left hand, and he made a mental note of an advantage that might save him in the minutes to follow. He would need every edge he could find; these two had already cut through many marauders, and they showed no signs of slowing... nor so much as a scratch on either of them so far.

Snatches of their conversation drifted to his ears, even over the din of battle. Padawan Sata. Master. Their dynamic reminded him of Romi Jade Romi Jade and Viers Connory Viers Connory , the Jedi who had defended Niima Outpost during the Brotherhood raid on Jakku, a teacher and a student. But these two seemed... different. Rather than fight to the bitter end, Romi Jade had willingly surrendered to the Maw in order to save the survivors at Niima; it had been foolish, in The Mongrel's eyes, but had at least lived up to her talk of being a guardian of peace. But these two... The Mongrel saw in them a violent certainty of purpose, a fanaticism even, to match his own.

These two had already judged him, and would show no mercy to a foe of their "light". But so be it. The Mongrel would bring glory to the Three Avatars this day, even if this was the challenge before him... even if the odds of his survival were long, as they often had been before.

There were many things not to do when facing Jedi. You couldn't shoot them with blasters, or they'd reflect the bolts with their laser swords. You couldn't throw grenades at them, or they'd toss them back at you with their magic. You couldn't go blade to blade with them unless you had a beskar or cortosis weapon, and even then it was usually a bad idea. And you had to expect that they would have a mystical countermeasure for almost anything you threw at them.

There was never any one thing that worked against them; you just had to keep unleashing all the clever tricks in your arsenal and pray to the Dark Voice not to die. Now there were two of them - this was getting out of hand - so both the praying and the tricks were going to have to intensify if The Mongrel wanted to still be breathing in a few minutes. The marauder reached into his satchel, rooting around for one of the gadgets he'd designed to fight Force-mages. The stun gas he'd used against Kaleleon Kaleleon had been totally ineffective - apparently Jedi didn't even need to breathe if they knew the right spells - so he opted for a different tactic this time.

With one hand, he unslung his scattergun, holding it ready; he hoped that the wide spread of pellets would help overcome the Jedi's blocking laser-swords. With the other, he pulled out a small cylinder, not unlike the one he'd used for the stun gas... but with a very different purpose. He held it high, brandishing it at the Jedi, and grinned, revealing a mess of broken teeth. "I haven't seen an alabaster blade before," he hissed at the young woman. "It will make an excellent trophy." His gaze flicked over to her tall, broad teacher. "Your hammer is less interesting. Your false eye will do." As always, he lusted for trophies, especially ones he'd struggle to take.

Then he pressed the button on the cylinder... and the flash-bang activated. Unlike a traditional grenade (useless against Jedi since it could be intercepted midair with telekinesis), it was a directed-energy weapon, its discharge emerging from its tip in a long cone shape, aimed at the hall where the Jedi stood. A standard glow lamp put out light that could be measured at about 135 candela. The light that flashed out of the cylinder, straight at the Jedi's eyes, was one million candela in brightness, a blinding flash that promised to sear eyeballs as if they were staring into a sun. Sound followed, 180 decibels, louder than a starship engine taking off right beside your ear.

The grenade version he'd modified was standard tech among military and police forces around the galaxy, a "less-than-lethal" weapon causing flash blindness, deafness, and tinnitus. Even if the eardrums weren't fully ruptured, disruption to the inner ear could throw off a fighter's balance, making them clumsy in combat. The Mongrel had prepared to use this trick, fitting himself with reactive ear protection and polarized lenses over his eyes, just in case the weapon had any blowback. He could feel the cylinder vibrate in his hand as the sound wave erupted out of it, focused toward his two foes. He just hoped that making it directional, rather than a burst, hadn't reduced its effectiveness too much. He needed the Jedi off-balance, or he was going to die, probably in seconds.

Dropping the spent cylinder, he raised his scattergun to fire...
 
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Jac Yaxis

Guest
J
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Objective: Old Iron
Location: Ultraviolet Restaurant, Commercial District, Coruscant
Tags: Open
He was no senator. But he was the next best thing, and businessmen understand businessmen more than anything else. A few CEO's who were from the Roxuli Mining Guild had come to test the waters with Jac to see if he was worth meeting while they enjoyed their stay on Coruscant. The CEO's found themselves indulging themselves on the roof of one of Coruscant's most expensive restaurant, Ultraviolet. Jac spent some time with these company owners, buttering them up and preparing them with some intense negotiation. As the noise level and laughter built up, the more patient they would be when Jac pushed for concessions from them. Because he wasn't going to back down to some backwater miner CEOs. "I hope my esteemed guests find my hospitality to their liking."

"You spoil us way too much Mr. Yaxis. We don't have food as good as this in Unknown Space." One of the CEO's boomed. The others sounded their agreement while Jac smiled to show his gratitude.

"If you keep taking us out to nice places like this we might as well let the Alliance nationalize us." Another CEO joked which caused the others to erupted with laughter.

Eventually the noise died down and Jac opened with his piece.

"Now I want you all to understand that as a partner and adviser to the Galactic Alliance, it is my responsibility as well as the Senate to ensure the needs of all its people are met. As you know a delegation is on Roxuli to discuss matters related to the local Chiss you so generously employed. But of course I as a businessman know that the guild has a voice in this matter. By all means, please share your side."
 
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Seto Du Couteau Seto Du Couteau Auteme Auteme Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze Melolei Kardul Melolei Kardul Janos Sovv Janos Sovv

As the others began their introductions and translations, the communicator in Linny's ear came to life. Whispered, hurried instructions from Dagon. While she was more than happy to crawl through a few vents for a hint of evidence, these ones in particular didn't appeal. She made a mental note to send Dagon something in thanks, though. Maybe some chocolates. And an air-freshener.


Between Dagon's words though, and the constant referral to Iden, Linny was getting a little concerned. This wasn't turning out like a simple negotiation. From her bag, she slipped out a datapad and began to tap on the keys, writing up a quick message. Hopefully, a little bit of typing would just look like taking notes.

"Acknowledged, thank you," she replied into her communicator, like it was no big deal. "Apologies everyone, just a message from our ship. Knight Denko-Durren, there's a message for you," she announced, trying to keep her smile as neutral as possible. After tapping a couple of keys, Linny slid her datapad over the table towards Auteme. Beneath the lock-screen, a message would await her.


Need more time for Dagon to investigate. Suspicious about Teta senator.


After sliding the pad over, Linny offered another nervous smile to the congregated Chiss. Looking towards their translator, she did what she did best: overthink.

"Perhaps we should begin with a very specific lists of your concerns?" she asked, eyes flicking between the Chiss workers and the translator, "that we can address in detail? The Alliance can only work with the co-operation and consent of everyone. I'm sure we can look at all your needs and worries, no matter how small!" Linny rattled off the best sounding rubbish she'd learned in high-school Government class.

She noticed consternation within the Chiss workers. More whispers. Among them, there would've been some that understood Basic and they might already be relaying what she said. A couple of pointed looks towards the group. Questioning gazes. Some huffs. Finally, there was an answer. An older, wrinkled Chiss towards the back.


"Fairer pay... all we ask is proper pay for the work..." he wheezed in accented Basic, before being cut off by the laugh of another.

"We'll get no pay from Alliance. Union will suck us dry, starting with you, old man," a younger Chiss said, pointing his finger at them. Murmurs of support came from others in the assembled group.


"They'll just bring their own kind in."

"They sent Jedi to help..."

"To make sure we don't argue..."

Muttering and heated arguments passed between them, mixed between Basic and Cheunh. Linny breathed out slowly, watching it all play out, way beyond her level.

Murders are easy. People are hard work.
 
Chancellor Emerita / Advisor of State
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Into the Unkown
Objective: II - Outbound Flight Initiative
Location: The Chancellor's Podium

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Adhira swept into the wide chamber below the Senate chamber with a cadre of political aides swarming around her. They moved in and out of her earshot, whispering things to her about polling data and public opinion. It was rare for the Chancellor to allow politics to so closely invade her duties as the leader of the Alliance, but in recent weeks she had found herself more and more drawn into campaign meetings. So much had changed from when she reluctantly accepted the office. Now it seemed like the best hope for the Alliance was for her to remain in power. She hoped she was correct.

"I apologize, Tithe," she said to Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe , shooing her posse to the wings as she approached the Vice-Chancellor and Senate supporter staff, "My uh- meeting ran a little over today. Shall we?" The old woman wasted no time, whipping past their Staff Aide and whirling onto the Chancellor's podium in a cascade of cerulean skirts. Adhira had yet to formally discuss Aerarii's role in her administration if she were to face an election and she had been deliberately avoiding what would surely be an awkward conversation. Tithe was an asset to her, but she knew he did not feel involved in some of her daily duties.

"Go ahead," she nodded to the Rodian Staff Aide who whispered something into his comm. As suddenly as he did, the podium jerked beneath them and began to rise high into the air. As they came level with the middle-most level of Senators, the dull roar of muttered conversations died away. "The Galactic Alliance shall come to order," her voice thundered throughout the hall, "the Senate Scribe will read the orders of the day."

A young human positioned directly below them began to read the daily legislative agenda of the Senate. Adhira took the opportunity to sit back in her seat and lean over to Tithe. "Would you mind stopping by my office after the session, I have something I wanted to discuss with you." When the Scribe had finished, she stood again. "The Chair lays before the Senate a Bill for the Establishment of the Outbound Flight Project. The Chair recognizes Senator Mazik Stazi Mazik Stazi , author of the bill to speak on the matter."

Adhira gestured across the vast expanse to the repulsorpod holding the Senator of Duros and resumed her seat.
 
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SENATE CHAMBER // CORUSCANT
OUTBOUND FLIGHT INITIATIVE
Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe

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Reviewing the Csilla intel had become something of an obsession. Somehow gangs of Wild Space marauders had built a superweapon with enough destructive potential to destroy planets and they had done it in a proverbial cave with a box of scraps. While the Galactic Alliance was focused on Core World reconstruction Senator Stazi had still been fighting out on the frontier. There were even worse things than Sith or Imperials lurking in their galaxy's darkest depths.

"Outlander Station," Mazik cleared his throat, "represents a new beacon of hope for the Unknown Regions. Its light will shine across that space whose denizens name the Chaos, guiding them home. We must not stop there. For as light rises so does the dark to meet it. You have all seen the latest chilling reports from Csilla. I submit this is not just an intelligence failure, but that these Maw raiders have exposed our systemic ignorance to dangers trailing the Outer Core."

Navigating through Unknown Space wasn't like dusting crops. While the rest of the galaxy took their stable hyperlanes for granted hyperspace in the Chaos was distorted, a constantly shifting labyrinth. Roxuli represented one of few known reliable routes through the maze of solar storms, black holes and gravity wells that isolated it from neighboring Core sectors. Outlander Station was just as much an Alliance foothold in the beyond as it was a symbol of peace. Stazi intended to take advantage of that opportunity.


"This is why Duro has proposed we relaunch Outbound Flight. Not a single grand expedition but a series of civil projects far bolder in their scope. From mission control on board Outlander Station we could streamline its construction process to build a fleet of survey ships and establish research outposts to study the local phenomena or cultures. We could operate a network of comm triads to revitalize long range communication in the regions beyond conventional HoloNet reach. We could seek out the Unknowns instead of waiting for them to come for us like they came for the Chiss Ascendancy. Perhaps one day we might even finally discover new life beyond our own galaxy."

He knew it was a political risk sponsoring such a bold project while still only in his first Senate term. This was the next best thing to doubling the GADF budget which had been his first impulse, and might win him over enough Doves for at least bipartisan support. Mazik suspected his chief opposition would come from the corporatists who viewed any federal investments with extreme skepticism on principle.

"Thank you for humoring an old duros who never had much practice at public speaking in the Defense Fleet. May the Force be with you and may the Force be with the Galactic Alliance."
 
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Seto Du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta
Objective II:
Old Iron
Location: Roxuli, Mining City
Action: Make an Offer
Attire

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Seto shifted forward, his elbows resting on the table as he listened intently. Since his youth at the Sabacc tables, the hundreds of languages spoken in whispers acted as barriers to overcome when credits were on the line. Over time Seto figured that while he couldn’t possibly learn every single spoken language, he could at least understand and be able to read tone and emotion. Life had no translator or tiny letters like in the bottom of the holo-screen, but there were other ways to read people that worked somewhat similar. Seto carefully focused his attention on the Chiss that mentioned this ‘Iden’ character, as the room began to grow tense at the mere mention.

A barrier to overcome.

This only added to the hardened and aggressive words being tossed between the Chiss miners, their tone of voice spoke of years of disillusionment. A fractured front against the Mining Companies did not bode well for them that was made clear. Though this at least gave Seto a better understanding as to why the Mining Companies had such an easy time controlling their miners. Embittered by failed rebellion, left behind, and now the contrast of seeing how the galaxy turned for credits instead of justice in their eyes.

A jaded outlook, seeing all of their effort equate to nothing but a shanty town at best.

Glancing back to the translator for a moment, Seto returned his focus to the miners in front of him. “If it’s the Unions you are concerned about, let me assure you that the benefits of joining far outweigh any downside and remaining as an ‘At-Will’ employee will only guarantee that your worker rights are checked at the door.” Seto explained. He hoped his words could be properly translated, but more so his tone and concern can be felt by the miners listening to him.

Seto looked towards the younger Chiss that made the comment against the Union, “-For example, on Empress Teta the carbonite miner’s union earns above average pay across the Core and live happy beneath a blue sky. . .and most importantly they all understand that miners always work in the dark, they see everything. . .” Seto continued, this time taking a few seconds to look at everyone across from him, “. . . they see that banding together is where true strength resides.”

The young Du Couteau heir took another moment to see how effective he was being, he saw some skeptical glances his way, he saw doubt. Perhaps a show of trust, or maybe perceived trust from my own part.

“The Jedi sent here believe in betterment, how "the Force is a vast ocean of connections" between us all. . . but if you do not trust us completely and worry of being forced’ as you put it, the Jedi Representatives can leave. You can then freely discuss the matters with our esteemed Translator and myself if you so choose.” Seto offered, his hand gesturing towards Melolei and then to the rest of the miners.

The Chiss all began to murmur among one another, perhaps surprise from the offer. While Seto knew the harms of making such a claim, feeding into their fears, if the Jedi in the room did leave it opened a different door for Seto to walk through.
I can influence them on my own without worrying about being caught.

|| Linny Rennis Linny Rennis | Melolei Kardul Melolei Kardul | Auteme Auteme | Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze | Janos Sovv Janos Sovv ||
 

Melolei was certainly earning her pay, jumping back and forth between the groups speaking to do her best to ensure that everyone had a chance to speak and be heard. She'd be speaking with her job handler about earning some overtime given the current of emotions that threatened to upset her stomach worse than any hyperspace flight she had been on though. Another representative spoke, and she rolled into the Cheun with growing ease.

"I am Auteme Denko-Durren, representative of the New Jedi Order. Thank you for hosting us today," she said, tacitly avoiding the fact that they didn't have much choice in the matter. Corporate interests in the galaxy so often ran against the needs and rights of the people. The miners had nowhere to turn -- but, with Roxuli being absorbed into the Galactic Alliance, there was a chance to make things right.

"As Senator Du Couteau said, we're here to ensure the best for your people. We understand the hardships you have gone through, and want to assist however we can." She glanced to her left, where sat her new student, Hero. In her look was a question -- anything to add?


She paused, keeping her expression professionally schooled as the Sullustan introduced themselves with broken Cheun. At least the attempt had been made she surmised. Effort was a lot more than some had likely seen in this place as.

"Even if what's best for your people is to be left in peace," Hero waited for the half-zeltron to translate his Basic, "We are not Baelor. You have a right to decide if you want our help."

"Iden would never allow it."

A voice spoke from the group that had her narrowing her eyes when Hero looked her way to interpret, her mouth slightly ajar. She switched to Basic and looked to Hero while interpreting. "Someone called Iden, would never allow it? I don't...am I missing something?" She offered quietly before looking back to the assembled group.

The trepidation blended with turmoil and had her stomach rolling. She harkened back to her father's instruction as best she was able, trying to disconnect herself as best she was able from the strong emotions that were floating in the room. She blew out a breath, the pink of her skin paling slightly as she continued in her duties.

The woman, Linny she called herself began to speak after some fidgeting. And made life incredibly difficult in one fell swoop as she spoke.


After sliding the pad over, Linny offered another nervous smile to the congregated Chiss. Looking towards their translator, she did what she did best: overthink.

"Perhaps we should begin with a very specific lists of your concerns?" she asked, eyes flicking between the Chiss workers and the translator, "that we can address in detail? The Alliance can only work with the co-operation and consent of everyone. I'm sure we can look at all your needs and worries, no matter how small!" Linny rattled off the best sounding rubbish she'd learned in high-school Government class.

"Fairer pay... all we ask is proper pay for the work..." he wheezed in accented Basic, before being cut off by the laugh of another.

"We'll get no pay from Alliance. Union will suck us dry, starting with you, old man," a younger Chiss said, pointing his finger at them. Murmurs of support came from others in the assembled group.


"They'll just bring their own kind in."

"They sent Jedi to help..."

"To make sure we don't argue..."

Muttering and heated arguments passed between them, mixed between Basic and Cheunh. Linny breathed out slowly, watching it all play out, way beyond her level.



Melolei was definitely going to be speaking with her staffing representative about getting at least a bonus for this job as the room erupted into heated debate back and forth. Mel attempted to keep the assembled members of the Galactic Alliance in the loop on the arguments going back and forth. A small lull in the disagreement occurred and gave her a moment to sip the water she had beside her. A hurried closing of the bottle as another began to speak, and she worked to translate with all the speed she had available.

Glancing back to the translator for a moment, Seto returned his focus to the miners in front of him. “If it’s the Unions you are concerned about, let me assure you that the benefits of joining far outweigh any downside and remaining as an ‘At-Will’ employee will only guarantee that your worker rights are checked at the door.” Seto explained. He hoped his words could be properly translated, but more so his tone and concern can be felt by the miners listening to him.

Seto looked towards the younger Chiss that made the comment against the Union, “-For example, on Empress Teta the carbonite miner’s union earns above average pay across the Core and live happy beneath a blue sky. . .and most importantly they all understand that miners always work in the dark, they see everything. . .” Seto continued, this time taking a few seconds to look at everyone across from him, “. . . they see that banding together is where true strength resides.”

The young Du Couteau heir took another moment to see how effective he was being, he saw some skeptical glances his way, he saw doubt. Perhaps a show of trust, or maybe perceived trust from my own part.

“The Jedi sent here believe in betterment, how "the Force is a vast ocean of connections" between us all. . . but if you do not trust us completely and worry of being forced’ as you put it, the Jedi Representatives can leave. You can then freely discuss the matters with our esteemed Translator and myself if you so choose.” Seto offered, his hand gesturing towards Melolei and then to the rest of the miners.

She spoke without reservation and did her best to emulate the tone. Her own mind capturing the meaning of the words only after they had tumbled from her mouth. She gave the representative Seto an alarmed glance with wide eyes. The Jedi. Leave the room!? Are you fething crazy!? Her eyes scanned the leery crowd of miners before her with a very forced smile, her stomach likely able to knit a sweater with the summersaults it was now doing at the thought of being in the room with just Seto and this lot for company.

She would be asking for double pay along with a bonus.
 


Senate Chamber - Coruscant


The two aides accompanying Val were whispering information to her as she sat waiting patiently for the Senate session to begin. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as her eyes scanned the Senate chamber, catching glimpses of the different alien species among the crowd of senators. Then, a single platform rose in the center of the chamber, revealing the Chancellor. Val hushed her aides and rose to her feet, giving the Chancellor her undivided attention.

The daily agenda was read then the Chancellor returned to the forward position and spoke once more. She referred to something as the Outbound Flight Project and gave the floor to a Duros senator. Val's attention turned towards him as he explained the new project. Val had heard of the devastation at Csilla and it shook her to her core to imagine such a thing happening anywhere else as well. She could also see the academic benefit of such an initiative. To go out and explore the Unknown and meet with new cultures would greatly enrich the Galactic Alliance. She could not see such a task being completed anytime soon. The amount of resources needed for this project would be astronomical, but the benefit heavily outweighed the coust on her opinion.

Val could hear her aides conversing behind her once the Duros stepped down. They reminded her that the Ensos are capable explorers and scientists, making this Project an excellent idea for her people to contribute to. She would wait for few moments before speaking, however, to think it over and to hear others thoughts on the project.

 

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LOCATION: Senate Building, Coruscant
OBJECTIVE: Objective III - Outbound Flight Initiative
SENATORS: Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra | Mazik Stazi Mazik Stazi | Val Aranda Val Aranda

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“Ah, but of course, after you,” Tithe replied as the Chancellor swept into the holding room beneath the Senate floor. The two politicians boarded the Chancellor’s podium, which then slowly telescoped up to its customary position in the centre of the Assembly Chamber. The Vice Chancellor offered nods of acknowledgement to his colleagues and allies and made sure to offer a twinking eye and slight grin toward the swarm of holocameras that floated around the vast chamber. It never hurt to play up to the masses tuned in.

“I serve at your pleasure,” he responded to the meeting invite, curious as to what Adhira had in mind. Tithe’s most common question to her executive assistant every time he returned to his office was ‘Has the Chancellor called?’, to which the response was inevitable, ’No’. Perhaps she was in need of his corporate contacts.

The Honourable Member for Duros presented their proposal for the Outbound Flight project. With the Alliance hemmed in the galactic north, east and south, expanding out into the Wild West of the Unknown Regions was their only real opportunity to grow their membership and secure the resources needed to keep the Alliance fed, fuelled and safe.

The opportunity for commerce was boundless. Tithe was already imagining the untold credits which could be forged in the new markets they would uncover. His influence could undoubtedly see the involvement of the Trade Federation in the venture secured.

Stazi yielded the floor to questions on the motion of established an Outbound Flight project. Tithe surveyed the assembled Senators before him, a number of which had detached their pods from the wall of the chamber in preparation to move forward and raise a question or add their support. The Vice Chancellor nodded to one of the Senators to approach the podium.

“The Honourable Member has the call.”
 
Objective: Outbound flight
Location: Senate
Tags: Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra | Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe | Mazik Stazi Mazik Stazi |@val aranda



There was turmoil followed by whispers of what the elections would bring. She herself had polled her staff and Noble houses if there was one who wished to become Senator and represent Alderaan within this bubble. Just like a bubble the colors of time swirled on the outside ever changing, never quite giving off anything with certainty until the participants were ready. Inside the arena of the Senate every gesture could be questioned. Hold someone’s gaze a little too long and you could find yourself facing an angry Senator in your office as they accused you of collusion and unfair politics.

It was a skill to avoid such encounters, but it was a skill gained over time. Time how did such a short word come to have such weight attached. She didn’t know and now was not the moment for such deep thoughts.

There was something else to consider, Outbound Flight Project. A station dedicated to exploration and ship building. She couldn’t help but hear the cynic in her whispering, if they can be exploration ships nothing stops them from building war ships. How do you feel about that?

Faith looked over to where the estimated budget costs for the project were reflected, FETH! Look at that number….how many refugees could we feed and house with that kind of money?

What was the return on this investment? Discovering problems before they came calling, research, jobs maybe some trade but when would they see a return on this? If it stopped an invasion…there..she could see that. But…this still sounded like an expensive early warning system with eventual capability of self-support, like the Wheel. Which it would need should there ever come a time when the Alliance was not there to provide funds for the upkeep and defense.

The Unknown Regions was the only place left for the Alliance to go.

What did she think? She gazed about the room trying to gauge how others felt. It was unreadable for her right now. She should be excited and yet she felt that uneasiness in her soul.

Faith stood, “Alderaan seeks recognition. I have a question in regards to the safety of the station, how much of the Alliance military will need to be stationed there to keep it safe from attack?”

Yes she understood the costs and knew somewhere buried on line item 100 it would be there how much, how many, and the cost….but she was lazy today and decided to ask instead. The budget increases were not only for supplies and building materials, but for the people it would take as well.
[/I]
 
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Allies: Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo
Enemy: Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren

The beast was on them like a starved nexu, starving for its next meal. He didn't let the monster's blade but kiss his own before he used his size to sidestep the blade and slip around the man, using the force of the Ren's strike to propel him. Aaran could handle a little debris and it was clear that this malevolent creature was aiming to kill, not maim. He could sense it in the Force; this creature, whatever it was, was a broken thing.

How sad.

A battle cry came from the diminutive form, surprisingly loud for the small body it came from. It echoed through the hallway as he jumped and spun, his body nothing more than a bright green blur as his blade came spinning down towards the Maw Man's back.
 
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Location: Senate Building - Senate Chamber
Objective: Outbound Flight Initiative
Tags: Faith Organa Faith Organa Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe Mazik Stazi Mazik Stazi Val Aranda Val Aranda

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"I might be able to answer that," said an unfamiliar voice in the Senate chamber. His senatorial aid, a young Devaroinian woman, frantically scrambled to activate the pod's speaking function. High Admiral Pryce's voice had carried so well, no doubt after years of shouting over the chaos of a bridge, that he hadn't even thought to go through the formal process of being recognized. He shrugged off the misstep. That was what his senate aid was for.

The woman cleared her throat and announced his presence to the other senators.

"Special Military Advisor, High Admiral Dracken Pryce seeks recognition." His pod beeped and moved into a speaking position, hovering lazily forward and up. He was positioned lower than the other senators and even at speaking height he was lower than even the pods of the Alliance's newest worlds of Roxuli and Billbringi.

"To answer your question Your Grace, Outlander Station is already a military and Jedi outpost. Currently, elements of Battlegroup Kenobi and the 2nd Expeditionary Fleet patrol the sector and are tasked with responding to the calls the station receives for aid. In other words, the remnants of the fleets that took part in the Stygian Campaign. It will cost a bit more to get what we need as far as food and supplies for the military that far out from the Core compared to say the First Sector Fleet, but still less than what was coming out of pocket for the Stygian Campaign." He paused and looked around the room. "It should be noted, that the Stygian was not our only open theatre of conflict however and while the men and women of the 2nd and 3rd Sector fleet are great at what they do, we likely won't be at full force until our Forces along the Braxant Run have completed their "clean up" campaigns."

Clean up. That's what they called it. The Braxant Run campaign had been overwhelmingly successful during the early years of the war with the Sith. Officially, the New Imperial Order controlled 95% of the Braxant Run, the territory having been the first stripped from Sith hands. There had been, and still were, Sith holdouts throughout those sectors but the real reason the Alliance left token forces along the trade route were far more sinister in nature. But he didn't have to say what those were. Everyone could guess why the Alliance left so many ships that far from the Core and the Imperator's actions at Ziost's second and final battle were evidence enough as to why they couldn't be fully trusted.



 

Vreemde Morteisen

Guest
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Morteisen, Vreemde
CEO of Macharian Industries Corporation | Senator of Brentaal
Equipment:
Attire | Holo-Projector | Com-link | Datapad

Objective: III.Outbound Flight Initiative
Tag(s): Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra , Aerarii Tithe Aerarii Tithe , Mazik Stazi Mazik Stazi , Faith Organa Faith Organa , Val Aranda Val Aranda , open

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Dressed in a simple coat, Morteisen was sitting his pod together with a single other individual. His aid was a Thyrsian in his late twenties, a volunteer from a slave colony and as loyal as any other member of the Rim-Guard. The two briefly exchanged a few words before the Senator would focus back on the ongoing topic.

Exploring the Unknown Regions. Vreemde was born there and most likely had seen more maps of them than the others in the giant chamber and he knew where tons of data about those places are stored and well used. It was a strategic evaluation to take and he had sent a message to the High-Imperator as soon as the project was known to him. Yet for his company and world it was an interesting idea, profit in the air.

He had time and waited for the others to continue discussing, listening to their words and curiously eyeing who would follow which focus. It was a new duty afterall and Vreemde wanted to learn swiftly to see who and what he was dealing with here on Coruscant.
 
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Objective I
With
: Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina
Fighting: The Mongrel The Mongrel

As Mongrel raised the cylinder the armored silhouette raised his own hand.

"You are blinded by the darkness." His voice boomed as he drew on the Force and projected an imperceptible barrier around them. "We will show you the way."

The Jedi Master had been expecting some sort of explosion. Kinetic shrapnel, perhaps blaster fire from the cylinder, what came next was completely unexpected. The barrier he had erected was useless to the blinding light rushing towards them. There was only a split second warning through his connection to the Force.

Not enough time to stop the attack.

Just enough time to protect... her, if not himself. His hand seized the shoulder of Sata, yanking her back and behind him. Covered by Sardun she was protected from the onslaught of light. Michael? Not so much. The light spread through the gaps of his helmet and flared his eye, blinding him... perhaps the Force would heal it, but for now? He was blind from both eyes. Seemingly.

His voice bellowed in anguish but the Jedi stood resolute. Not wavering even slightly from protecting his Padawan.

"You think the light is your ally, mongrel?" He growled, his presence in the Force amplifying as a ring on his finger flared up in response to his pain. "I will show you true Light."

He channeled his pain and anguish, amplifying his strength, while the ring purified his presence.

Always a fixture in the Lightside of the Force. No matter what he did. None knew why, not even him.

As the pellets of Mongrel's weapon cascaded against the barrier Sardun unleashed a blast of true Force Light. Sharp heat that burned both within the physical realm as well as the Force. Even if Mongrel was not sensitive to the Force, it rushed towards his mind, burning anything it could touch and more.
 
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“Kin”

L’yoom repeated for herself, affirming she was listening with a pure focus on her. When the question was asked-- It took L’yoom a moment to remember the word, but it was much swifter this time, after hearing it more and more. She was relieved when Ripley spoke up, straightening up slightly as she did.

Once more, L’yoom would nod in agreement, eyes lowering to the child to watch them play about in their Mother’s arms. It was a much different dynamic than what she had experienced with her own Mother. A much more aggressive and firm teaching lifestyle she remembered…

It brought on quite the opposite feeling of what Ripley might have felt, but she hadn’t noticed it immediately.

Passing through the rickety homes, it was also not an immediate thought that this was not the condition these people intended to live in. Her own upbringing was pure forestry and caves. A very primitive method, even compared to what was here. But that was relative to the land in which they lived. It was certainly not a lot for someone if they had normally been raised under a roof their entire lives…


"This feels... odd." She murmured softly.

Upon arriving, her eyes met the rugged individual, quite interested to know what was happening here.

L’yoom stuck out her hand, just as Auteme taught her-- and pressed her fingers up to his, moving it slightly up and down with a gentle motion. The girl had an absolutely straight face, giving a subtle nod of greeting.

“My name: L’yoom Ka. It is an honor to be able to assist in any way that we can.” L’yoom gave a smile, her cheeks cheering their efforts on,
“It is encouraging to see that even a child can still find a reason to smile.”

Ripley Kühn Ripley Kühn
 


BURNING LIGHT

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OBJECTIVE 1 | OUTLANDER STATION
Michael Sardun Michael Sardun | The Mongrel The Mongrel | OPEN

PUNCH BAG

Resolve hardened her muscles and throat, she took no measure to respond with words while the perceivable leader’s voice rose above the din to them. In her focused silence, she assessed the foe that had caught her attention, and now returned it. He was a hideous composition of flesh in the husk of a man. Missing teeth, spikes driven through the flesh on his face, parts of his body looked glossy and rolled as if burned and scarred. An involuntary sneer curled at her lip, and she found herself crouching and ready to leap.

Stopped only by the Force whispered a warning, a cool undertone of concern that prickled the hairs at the nape of her neck.

A supernova soared through the enclosed space, streaking its blinding light in their direction.

She forced her eyes shut, screwing them together tightly and looking to the side. With a sharp breath, she sucked in through her teeth and lifted an arm to cast a further shadow over her face. It was only a few gestures in the span of milliseconds, not nearly as protective as her master was.

“Ah!” Ishida barked out in shock as a massive mitt clamped against her shoulder, yanking her out of the line of fire and into safety.

Her breaths were ragged, cowering pathetically behind the barrier her master erected and the outline of his person. She stared down at the ground, at the juncture between the stone and the wall, trying to piece together if it was real or just kaleidoscopic renderings of what she thought a floor and wall should look like. While she took the time to recover (begrudgingly), Sardun was already riposting. Returning the Ashla’s true luminescence in super powered triumph against the manufactured flare.

Ishida whirled around, keeping low before she darted out from behind the protection of the battlemaster. Like a cat, she zig zagged –– the beam of Ashla’s divinity above her, lighting the way straight to the attacker that dared tried to use human-made brilliance in a contest against the warriors of true light. Her run was furious and soundless, zipping rapidly between point A to point Mongrel with agility only someone her size could accomplish. In a final instant, she let out a bark of an attacking cry and dropped her weight to slide, swiping at the calves of the Maw Captain with an ‘X’ shape of her blades.


 
Handsome blindfolded hyper-religious whackjob

Again he found himself so curious as to who the Master of Ren was trying to intimidate. The Jedi facing him? Or was he looking to ensure he could still control his minions through fear? If the former was his intention, Kyrel was faring rather poorly. With the hiss of his own activated Saber, the golden blade cleaved outward. The debris flying towards him cleaved neatly in two, sailing past him and impacting the wall behind him.

No more words needed to be spoken. It was the time for action. His own form blurrig into motion alongside the diminutive Master. Aaran moved. Looking to compliment the far more agile of the pair present. His own blade lashed towards, looking to trap Kyral's own from its downward strike.

But that was ultimately all he needed to do. That was the wonderful thing about lightsabers. Even the briefest touches could be crippling to the unprepared. And that was all he needed to do. Create openings for Morteg to deal the decisive blow. He had no doubt that Kyrel would put up a hell of a fight. But against two seasoned warriors. One of which had centuries of experience, the other had fought him and survived multiple times, growing stronger with each bout.

The odds were stacked against the Master of Ren.
 
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Objective 1: Meddling Kids

Location: Outlander Station, Cargo Bays
Allies: Kyrel Ren Kyrel Ren
Foes: Dhalinar Greystar Dhalinar Greystar , Aaran Tafo Aaran Tafo , Michael Sardun Michael Sardun , Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina
Uncertain: Pyrrah Tae Pyrrah Tae


Though indisputably a fanatic in service to dark gods, The Mongrel tackled the subject of fighting Jedi with a methodical, scientific approach. Whenever he saw a lightsaber, his mind filled with tables of observations he'd made over all his past encounters, running quickly through new calculations to add data with each action the warrior-monks took. There was a checklist in his head that included every tactic he'd ever used against them. Some entries were struck out, determined to be worthless against the laser sword-wielders. Most had conditional check marks at best; if there was a magic bullet for killing Jedi, he had yet to find it.

The marauder put another half-tick in the mental box beside his modified flashbang. It did seem to have slowed the Jedi down; the blinding flash had been at least somewhat effective, though the wave of noise clearly had not, given that the big one was still talking. Perhaps they'd been too far away, or perhaps the 180 decibel audio burst hadn't been directionally targeted enough. The Mongrel's tricks and traps were never stock, off-the-shelf devices, and sometimes the things he built worked better than others. He would reexamine how to effectively and fully use the directional "grenade" when he returned to Brotherhood space... if he survived to do so.

The big Jedi pulled the willowy one - his student - behind him, providing her with some protection against the searing flash. Then he lashed out with his magic, creating a radiant light of his own that streaked across the cargo bay at his foe. It was a good symbolic choice, but not one destined to do terrible damage to a mere marauder. Force Light could burn away spirits of Chaos, purify a nexus of evil, and disrupt the powers of the Dark Side, but The Mongrel experienced it only as a flash of brightness and heat upon his scarred face. His polarized lenses kept him from being blinded. Then the light wormed its way inside his head, seeking darkness to burn out.

But some kinds of evil aren't tangible shadows of corruption. Some kids of evil are simply born of broken minds, reshaped by fanaticism and the honeyed promises of wicked men. There was no Bogan in The Mongrel for the power of Ashla to burn out, only madness that this searing light could not heal. The marauder felt a sense of sadness as the radiance passed through his mind, awakening shards of memory that his torture and rebirth had buried deep... but it passed. There was no going back, not for him, not after all he had done. "Your 'true' light fades, Jedi," he spat, firing his scattergun, though the pellets just pinged off of Sardun's invisible barrier.

"This cycle is ending. A new age will rise from your order's ashes."

It was good that the big Jedi's magic did not incapacitate him, because the woman Jedi was coming right at him. She charged in eerie silence, her pale hair drifting in a halo around her, lit from above by the beam of light streaking from her master's hand... and from below by her own alabaster blades. She was quick and lithe, and The Mongrel found her movements difficult to anticipate; she did not fight like the saber-wielders he had encountered before, and not just because she carried two of her order's signature weapon. When she finally revealed how she would strike, sliding in to cut his legs from under him, the marauder found himself taken by surprise.

Had he been sprinting forward, The Mongrel would have tried to leap over her low attack... but he was not, and a standing jump would not carry him high enough; he'd end up with feet severed at the ankle. So he scrambled frantically backwards, letting his scattergun dangle from its shoulder strap as he reached out behind him with both hands. He was seeking to do what he always had in duels against Force-mages: to use his environment to stay alive. In his very first encounter with one, fighting the crimson-blade Calruss Shiman on Batuu, he had scrambled beneath a market stall to survive the boy's assault... though not before taking a terrible leg wound.

Thankfully, the cargo bay was full of environmental opportunities. One of The Mongrel's searching hands closed over the steering bar of a hovercart loaded up with heavy shipping crates, and a simple plan took shape. He swung it around, interposing it between himself and the incoming Jedi. Instead of cutting his legs to ribbons, her pure white blades cut an X through a shipping container filled with asteroid ore. Scraps of durasteel crate and fragments of rock scattered between the two combatants, their edges glowing a molten orange from the heat of the laser swords. The handle of the hovercart, severed at the base, came free in The Mongrel's hand.

He stared at it a moment, then tossed it aside.

Time and again the marauder had gone up against Jedi and, against all odds, survived... but this wasn't a Jedi, it was two, and a pair fully accustomed to fighting side by side. Clearly the big one didn't need his eyes to lash out with his magic, and his student had hardly even been slowed down, though The Mongrel credited some amount of lingering flash-daze in her vision to the fact that he wasn't yet chopped into pieces like the hovercart. Regardless, there was a point at which even the proud warrior had to admit that some glories could not be chased alone. He needed backup, or this raid was going to end with his head on the trophy rack.

Or whatever Jedi used, he wasn't really sure.

He couldn't just flee, or the raid would fail. Behind him, dozens of Bloodsworn tribal warriors swarmed over the cargo bay, dragging off supply crates and screaming captives to the assault shuttles. Every Brotherhood strike had a dual purpose, both causing havoc for the enemy and replenishing the Maw's resources. In order to achieve the best results for both, The Mongrel had to keep these two Jedi from becoming a whirlwind of carnage among his raiders. The Bloodsworn were savage and ferocious, a match for any well-drilled grunt on the open battlefield, but ten of them would be lucky to last even thirty seconds against these mage-knights.

Fortunately, the Maw had Knyghts of its own. As The Mongrel scrambled back, putting a little more distance between himself and the oncoming Jedi, he transmitted a preset signal from his wrist communicator. A few Knyghts of the First House, Monastery Daedalon, had accompanied the raid in case of Jedi intervention. They were not technically The Mongrel's to command; his authority was limited to the Bloodsworn tribe raiders allotted to him by their Warlord, Zachariel Steelblood Zachariel Steelblood . But all Knyghts, like The Mongrel himself, were hungry for glory. They would come if the promise of Jedi skulls to take was laid out before them.

He just had to last until they arrived.

Casting around as he fell back before the oncoming Jedi, The Mongrel spotted an opportunity: a binary loadlifter awaiting new commands, placidly standing out in the open. The droids were infamously dull-witted, able to carry out only the simplest of commands... and often ignoring any context that might affect how they should achieve their tasks. This one had a huge shipping container laid across both of its flat lifting arms, twelve meters long by two and a half meters high and wide; it had to weigh a good four metric tons empty, and who knew what might be inside it. The Mongrel scrambled between its wide legs and out behind it.

"Drop the crate," he commanded, hoping it would crush his pursuer with its terrible bulk. Even if it did not, it would put a barrier between him and the pair of Jedi. That would give him a moment's breathing room, until they managed to get around it... or cut through it, and whatever cargo lay inside. The loadlifter's huge, paddle-like arms tilted toward the ground, sending the massive shipping container sliding down right at Ishida Ashina Ishida Ashina ...
 
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After Csilla, everything changed. The Brotherhood was seen as a true threat now, one that needed to be stopped. That meant the fires of war were stoked and the armies were prepared. Where others would falter at the might arranged before them, the Brotherhood only took it as a challenge, and a success of their mission. They wanted war unending, and a purification of the old and a rebirth of the new. To that end, they needed kyber crystals, which lead to this raid, and it led to more war, as all things should.

Nominally Kyrel was leading this raid, having been given command of the vanguard force. But that didn't mean there were other leaders, other warlords here. One such warlord was Zachariel, though he hadn't yet made an appearance. Instead he chose to watch and observe, to see where more force would be needed. Quietly watching and waiting, Zachariel soon received reports of Jedi forces fighting to stop the Brotherhood. A futile gesture, but one fit for Jedi. In particular two pairs of Jedi were facing two leaders of the Brotherhood, Kyrel and the Mongrel. While Kyrel hadn't called for help just yet, it was clear from the reports that he would be hard pressed to win in any swift manner. Yet the Mongrel was a Bloodsworn and certainly in need of more help.

It took a few moments for Zachariel to choose where he should apply his force, but soon enough he knew the answer. If Kyrel couldn't survive against a mere two Jedi, he had no right to call himself a Knight or Lord of Ren. The Mongrel was also one of his and a useful servant, much more valuable in Zachariel's eyes. Decision made, Zachariel made his way to the hanger and towards an assault shuttle he had retained just for this purpose. Its engines were already spooled and it took off as soon as Zachariel was on board. They launched forward, shooting towards the hanger where the Mongrel, Michael, and Ishida fought.

They arrived quickly and viciously, shuttle slamming down in a clearing and assault ramp falling shortly thereafter. At the center of the ramp stood Zachariel, sword in one hand, axe in the other. Marching down and towards the fight calmly, Zachariel dragged his weapons across the ground, producing a loud scraping sound. At the same time, he took the time to observe the situation and see where all the players are. Letting out a bloodthirsty chuckle, Zachariel simply kept up his advance. His delight in the Force was evident, along with a core of darkness yearning for blood.
"Well, well, well, isn't this just perfect. I hope you're ready to become one with the Force, Jedi."

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