Diplomacy &nbsp; Pt. 1.5 - Licking Our Wounds (Anaxes, Alliance/High Republic)

Constantine Oliva

Auteme

The stranger's greeting comes just as the Admiral's drink reaches his hand, prompting an agitated twitch of his brow. Drawing a deep breath, the old Anaxsi turns his head to regard the unrecognized man addressing him. The name was unknown to him, as was that of the presumed Jedi Master he apparently associated with. The High Admiral had minimal contact with members of the Jedi Order.

He pulls the glass to his lips as Brentaal becomes the subject of conversation, taking a rather liberal gulp as the pointed-eared man continues. He finally sets the glass down as the man suggests an unnatural nature to the events. Cassius' eyes glance down to the squat unit at his feet. Had he overheard the astromech droid? He didn't recall seeing the man at the gate, and they hadn't yet discussed anything among the crowds.

"What makes you suggest such a thing?" he asks with a fierce tone.

The admiral holds out a hand to silence the binary chirping of the droid, refusing to take his attention away from Nimdok now that he had engaged the man in conversation. He continues with a second question, "If you or this Master Heliobas were not present, what evidence do you have?"

If this individual's conclusion was of his own work and aligned with the alleged information gathered by the Sabre Squadron droid, it would only add weight to the possibility of it being the truth. Nonetheless, Cassius had to be careful. He would not reveal any information until he could be certain the man speaking to him could be trusted as the expert he claimed to be.

Dak · Apr 28, 2020

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station

Constantine Oliva

"Is such a cap necessary for your species to rest?" he asks, finding the concept a bit odd "Organics tend to find this odd, but things are quite the opposite for me. I recharge my energy through movement. In some ways, I suppose you could argue that fighting on Brentaal was my equivalent of a 'good night's rest.'"

He glances over to his similarly coloured companion, "That is not to say that I condone the actions. It is a joke." He pauses, "though not an entirely incorrect statement."

The droid follows the Anaxsi admiral from a few meters behind. He had easily recognized the droid designation accompanying him; Frank, the astromech of Loske Matson. Gala was right, it was peculiar to see the two exchanging words. But knowing the strange and simple little droid, he wouldn't be there if there wasn't a good reason.

Finally reaching their destination, Dak stops outside for a moment to take in the scene. "A bar?" he asks, confused by the choice of location. He had expected the officer to go to an office or command room. The well-dress officer and astromech stand out like sore thumbs among the refugees and soldiers gathered around in masses. Noticing the stranger approaching the Admiral and his reserved expression toward their conversation, Dak looks to the woman at his side once more "Do you recognize that man speaking to Admiral Callaesar? I don't believe I've seen him before."

Constantine Oliva · Apr 28, 2020

Another pair entered the bar. A man and a young girl. refugees, Constantine thought, but they seemed to move with purpose. The man strode up to the officer Constantine had been observing, and spoke to him. Constantine couldn't hear what was being said, but the officer turned suddenly towards him. As he did to, the young officer got a better look at his elder's rank plate. Constantine nearly spit out his drink in shock.

An admiral? Not just any admiral, judging by the presence of the Radiance. That had to be High Admiral Callaesar. Constantine had met him once before, when he had given a lecture at the Anaxes War college, and had heard of his exploits. What was he doing in such an establishment? After such a major event there'd surely be loads of work to do. Then again, what was Constantine doing instead of updating his ship's logs? The admiral was still only human, and still needed to relax like any other man would after such a strenuous event.

Constantine slowly became aware of a buzzing in the back of his head. Surely he hadn't drunk that much yet? He'd had only a single stein of Anaxsi beer, an amount that hadn't buzzed him before. The little girl who had entered with the pointy-eared man seemed to be wandering a bit, but still staying close to the man she'd entered with. Two more entered now, a green-skinned alien woman, who seemed to have been in the fighting herself, and a droid Constantine didn't recognize. There were six people of particular interest to Constantine now.

Jacen Nimdok · Apr 28, 2020

The astromech began to beep irritably in binary. Seeing the admiral’s disposition shift into suspicion and distrust, Nimdok quickly shifted gears, getting straight to the point.

“You misunderstand me, sir,” he said, leaning forward and lowering his voice. “I don’t claim to know more about this situation than you do. But I was told by another member of your Alliance—I’m afraid her name escapes me, though we met only a half hour ago. A young Jedi, long blonde hair, ridiculously attractive... er, anyway, she informed me that space readings taken at Brentaal picked up on a peculiar anomaly, an apparent breach into—or perhaps from—the Netherworld...”

Out of the corner of his eye, Nimdok saw Miri wandering away from him. He reached out to pull her back, and was rewarded with a bombardment of mental images and impressions she’d picked up from digging in the minds of various people. The information was overwhelmingly traumatic, mostly due to recent memories of the carnage on Brentaal, as well as random bits and pieces she had seized upon and was presenting to him like gathered flowers for his perusal.

Not right now, he told her silently, his lips turning white as he pressed them together. I’m working. And you shouldn’t be doing that.

She replied with the mental equivalent of a bored whine and complained that her feet hurt. He lifted her onto the bar stool, where she seemed pleased with the new view the higher elevation provided.

Nimdok realized he had left the admiral hanging for several seconds now. Shaking his head as if to clear it, he cleared his throat before continuing.

“Excuse me. The Netherworld, yes… we know it is part of the Force, though it is woefully unexplored by either the Jedi or the Sith. Now, I am a professor specializing in the history of Force users on both sides, as well as something of an archaeologist, but since this is a matter which has no precedent, there are no ‘experts’. I am the closest thing to that as you will find. On such short notice, at least—and on recommendation from Master Heliobas, no less.”

But it was plain that Admiral Callaesar had never heard of Heliobas, and therefore had no reason to believe the word of a stranger who claimed to be his associate. He was going to have to find someone who could vouch for the Jedi Master if he was ever going to be accepted as legitimate.

Others were entering the bar—a green-skinned woman and another droid. The latter Heliobas had encountered on Alderaan during the chaotic diplomatic meeting between the Alliance and the Republic. Nimdok breathed a slight sigh of relief, crossed his fingers in hopes that Dak had not received a recent memory wipe, then turned back to the admiral.

“That must be Dak, the loyal servant of the Grayson clan. Master Heliobas mentioned him. I believe, Admiral, if you were to ask him, he could tell you of the Jedi’s exploits on Alderaan. They fought there together.”

Maynard Treicolt · Apr 30, 2020

Maynard could barely levy a greeting toward

Leon Gallo as Loske introduced the Jedi with one another, offering a faint nod from which the faint movement alone seemed to jostle his senses. It had to have been understandable as to why the Jedi was reluctant to avoid any indepth interaction in the otherwise crowding environment. Those who were present on Brentaal could certainly deduce why at at least. It was then when Auteme said those foreboding words that Maynard first felt the weight of everything bare down unto him. He had sworn moments before that he believed

Ryv to be alive, even if the chance was fleeting.

"Yeah...yeah I'm sure he would." He offered, barely able to sound out the words as his blurred gaze went errant and off from Auteme, seeing better fit to shift his eyes out of focus unto no place in particular.

"I mean...I'd like to- shit it doesn't matter..." Maynard says, close to offering up some words of reassurance over the Jedi's disappearance only to muster nothing in fruition. He'd been broken over Brentaal. He had a moment's reprieve before joining everyone else here but even still, it didn't seem to amount to much to the Jedi as he did all he was able to keep in tears from pain, loss, anguish. He'd felt loss before, deeply intense feelings of it but it might've been the familiarity of it that drew such a potent emotional response from the Jedi even as he did all in his power to veil it from any one present.

"I'm sorry - probably could've done something about it...maybe...I don't know." He offered to Auteme.

Auteme |

Sienna Vekarr · Apr 30, 2020

Ever since the collection of tragedies collectively known as the Netherworld Crisis and the near-total destruction of Corellia as a result, the powers that controlled the old Core world had been monitoring what they had coined "Gates". Several had popped up across the Galaxy from as close to home as Corellia to as far into the Unknown Regions as Csilla. Rarely new gates opened, and usually only for a few minutes or hours and more often than not these gates opened in such remote places that they had little if any effect on the world around them.

Brentaal IV was not such an occasion. Vid feeds from the massacre had spread across the holonet and Corellia had pushed the Republic to act.

A Corellian star destroyer dropped out of hyperspace on the edge of the Axum system, its transponder broadcasting Republic diplomatic codes, though not a single true diplomat was aboard the vessel. No, the vessel had instead been commandeered by both Republic and Corellian Intelligence and the unlucky commander whose vessel just so happened to be the closest free ship of its weight class had been sucked into the mess. Newly commissioned Colonel Vekarr's boots clicked on the bridge of the Agni Kai, her green eyes falling on the taller Atrisian Commander. The man seemed to notice her approaching and turned to face her. He didn't bother hiding the contempt for her or her Halcyon commandos that followed at her flanks, towering over both of them.

"Commander Satou," she greeted. Satou huffed and turned back towards the viewport, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Colonel Vekarr," he replied cooly. "We've hailed Anaxes Station we should receive docking permissions shortly."

Cassius Callaesar · Apr 30, 2020

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station

Glancing where the Elzeri had looked, the High Admiral spots the peculiar droid model. He had seen the unit on a few occasions when meeting with the Lord-Imperator on Coruscant, so the man's claim that it was a servant of some sort seemed sound. It may not be perfect, but if offered some method of verification nonetheless.

Before he's able to respond his commlink is pinged. Raising a finger to momentarily excuse himself, the Admiral answers the call.

<<High Admiral. Flight Tower 3 has received a hail from a Corellian star destroyer broadcasting diplomatic codes.>>

"The Republic?" he asks, his tone a mix of surprise and relief.

<<It appears to be, sir.>>

The Admiral glances to his guest and then around him, becoming more aware of just how crowded the area was, "Excellent. Approve their clearance immediately and assign a gate as close to this terminal as possible. If none are available, prepare a shuttle for their envoys. Give them my coordinates and advise them that the situation is critical."

<<Yes, sir. Right away, sir.>>

Closing the channel, the fatigue drains from Cassius' eyes and his commanding demeanor returns. Looking to the man who had served him, he points to the back of the room, "Bartender. I am securing those isolated booths for official business. Have them vacated."

"Oh," the man stutters, looking at the crowded tables nervously "Uh, Admiral -- but the customers-"

Cassius interrupts him, "The Anaxsi government will compensate any financial losses sustained as a result. Now, it is imperative that you clear those tables immediately."

Unwilling to attempt negotiations, the Anaxsi simply nods and rushes from behind the bar to follow the High Admiral's orders. With things in motion, he returns his attention to the man seated next to him. "Very well, Nimdok. Wait at those tables with this astromech. I will speak to this other droid and, if you are what you claim to be, we will discuss this further," Cassius stands, picking up his drink and finishing it in one fell motion before straightening his uniform "it would seem there is no time to waste."

At that, he presses forward toward the two verdant operatives.

"You --" he approaches the Mirialan directly. Unable to find an identifier on her uniform with a simple once-over, he fills in the lack of name with an assumption "er, Agent. This droid here," he glances over to Dak, catching the alphanumeric code printed above its left photoreceptor in the short attention he pays the unit "Designation P028. Do you know if it has any connection to House Grayson or the Lord-Imperator?"

His attention moves to the droid, "Are you familiar with a Jedi by the name of Casimir Heliobas?"

Auteme

Leon Gallo · May 1, 2020

Leon nodded to the two Jedi he'd just been introduced to. They sat on a bench, with the girl touching the disorientated man's head. He was likely injured, and Leon had heard of using the force to ease pain and heal injuries. He turned his attention back to Loske. She looked like she had seen a fair bit of fighting, but overall looked unharmed. He himself had made it out without much injury, for which he was thankful.

"I'm alright. I've got a few scratches and bruises, but nothing major. How are you doing?"

He wasn't really alright, but he kept his emotional mess under the surface. She was likely doing the same. Most everyone who seemed to be doing alright was. The sights he saw that day would stay with him forever. He looked around again, thinking of the Jedi he'd seen fighting alone against the massive figure. He made it out, but that Jedi hadn't. So many others hadn't.

"I'm glad to see you got back okay."

Auteme

Gala Geert · May 1, 2020

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station

Cassius Callaesar //

Dak //

Jacen Nimdok //

Constantine Oliva

Nothing like the good 'ol combo of throwing back a drink and adjusting the uniform to warm the nether seas and start the gears thinking about twenty-toeing with someone. Gala'd kept a thumb on the whereabouts of the handsome admiral enough to see him approach and not veer from her position. She cocked a hip and a brow when he paused before her, and found herself sorely remiss at the length of the lingering gaze. Hmph. The wrong kind of business was on his mind.

Designation PO28? Oh..Dak. Lame.

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"Both." She answered squarely, folding her arms over her chest with a gesturing roll of her shoulder in the DAC unit's direction. "He's the so-called guardian of the guy. Did a great job."

This was too much about someone other than him. Bad for the angles. Taking a look around the emptying bar, she furrowed her brows. Was this place closing down? "Are you trying to become the most hated person on this station?" She started, gaze lingering on a couple that were being escorted from their booth. "Denying everyone the chance to drown their sorrows?" In before he insisted she be escorted out as well, she gave a brief tut-tut tap to the admiral's crest on his chest and maneuvered past to the barkeep. Of the two vices in the immediate vicinity, the night cap was still a priority. And likely less effort.

Lifting a green hand to suggest the guy pause his clean up, she caught the barkeep's attention.

Dak · May 1, 2020

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station

Dak looks between Gala and the Admiral as they speak of him directly infront of his face. While quite rude, it was admittedly a lot easier to allow other people answer your questions. At the Mirilian's slight, however, Dak quickly shoots his his red lenses to her in simulated disbelief. While his "sworn" purpose had been to protect the Lord-Imperator, he was afforded freedom of choice. If he had of been with Cedric instead of aboard the Ashaton, countless others may have died. Herself included. It was no secret that Captain Jaang hadn't been keen on sticking around, even with the automaton's persistence.

The attitudes of organics were truly a mystery. To think, he'd thought they'd become 'friends.'

"Regretfully, the Lord-Imperator was incapacitated during the battle," Dak interjects, moving his linger gaze back to the officer while attempting to provide more detail than the offhanded remark "he was loaded onto a transport for an emergency evacuation to Coruscant. I was unable to assist him."

The droid can't help but feel an equivalent of disappointment. Although he'd done well to justify his independent actions throughout the battle, the buzzing of his intended purpose continued to prod at him. Whether he was willing to accept it or not, she was right. He had failed as a guardian.

Casimir Heliobas? The name did sound familiar. A twitch-speed dip into his memory banks recalls their brief encounter in the capital city of Alderaan, when Dak had been dispatched to help thwart an assassination attempt that would have sparked war between the Republic and Imperium. He had met a Jedi by that name in the streets shortly after the fighting broke out.

"As confirmed, I am the droid you're looking for, Admiral," Dak confirms, moving on from the subject "I do recall a Jedi by that name. We met during the conflict in the Kuat system. He offered his assistance in stopping a terrorist attack."

Auteme

Saga of Valour

Cassius Callaesar · May 1, 2020

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station

Gala Geert

Cassius' tired gaze is unwavering against Gala's prolonged eye-contact, to fatigued and focused to consider any possibility that the woman's thoughts may not be on the horrors that had transpired over the last few hours. He had been made a fool to think he could spare a few moments in the facility to record. Now that he was thrown back into work, he felt guilty for even trying. There were far more pressing matters than his own mentality. If they were not prompt, the devastation of Brentaal IV might spread. The Azure Sector was not far from ground zero, afterall. The pressing fear of his own world being forced against such a foe was enough to motivate the Anaxsi through anything.

The droid confirming what the stranger in the bar had told him prompts his lips to tighten and a scowl to unintentionally form on his face. It was no fault of those around him, but the closer he got to having to genuinely consider the possibility of this disaster originating in a foreign dimension, the more frustrating it all became. No amount of military training prepared someone for such a scenario. There were no simulations for extra-dimensional leviathans.

Should he survive whatever came in the next few months, he'd see to it that such a ludicrous concept be forced into the curriculum in the Pols Anaxes Naval War College. If he had his way the battlefleets of Anaxes would never again find themselves so helpless while so close to home.

Hearing the patrons exiting behind him, Cassius doesn't need to look to understand what the Mirialan is referring to. "If becoming the most hated person on this station means saving more lives, then it is inconsequential. I'd have emptied every bar on this damned planet if it meant pulling even a hundred more people off the planet that we just left to die," his voice is sharp and cold, yet his eyes are ablaze with a passionate fury.

"While I too would fancy the opportunity sit here and drink until I'm unable to even remember that Brentaal IV is a planet, I'm afraid this situation has not resolved itself. Representatives from the Republic have arrived and I will not waste time gathering us all in a command room when time is of the essence," surprisingly, he offers little reaction to the physical gesture, but turns to watch her leave in silent disbelief at her audacity. Ignoring the DAC unit now that he'd answered his questions, the High Admiral returns to the tables he had secured for the impromptu meeting that would be taking place momentarily.

"The droid has confirmed your story, Nimdok," he says, the name failing to eloquently flow from his mouth each time he speaks it. "I will have you sit here for a meeting. It seems you've come bearing the very same news as this astrogation droid," he looks down to Frank as he adjusts his blazer to take a seat in the booth.

Shuffling himself to the far end to allow any who join a spot, he continues explaining the situation, "Representatives from the Republic have responded to the distress signals issued from the Brentaal system. With time of the essence, they will be joining us here to discuss what has happened. You, with the aid of this droid, can provide us with the information you share."

Jacen Nimdok · May 1, 2020

Constantine Oliva

“Certainly, sir,” Nimdok said, breathing a silent sigh of relief. Though the admiral seemed to be having trouble pronouncing his name (odd—it was only two syllables, pronounced exactly the way they looked), he was in. And so was the Republic, apparently—things certainly had changed since Heliobas left. “I am happy to assist you any way I can. It’s why I came here.”

As he turned toward the deserted booth, he heard childish giggling. Miri had evidently discovered the astromech during the exchange between Admiral Callaesar, the green-skinned woman, and Dak; putting both her small hands on either side of its swiveling head, she was jumping up and down excitedly and laughing whenever it moved or made a noise.

Grabbing her arm, Nimdok pulled her away from the droid. “Knock it off,” he snapped.

Though he tried to merely keep his tone firm, it came across harsher than he intended—and it was clear he’d nearly lost his temper. As the girl’s lip began to quiver, he felt instant regret.

And he was soon feeling quite a bit more than that. As his stern reprimand triggered the waterworks in his daughter, he and every other Force sensitive in the immediate vicinity were hit with a tidal wave of the child’s unfiltered emotions, broadcasting out through the Force. Only a few days ago, Miri had been freed from the clutches of her abductors and returned to the father she’d been told was dead—her distress at having angered him so soon after their reunion was immediate and potent.

Nimdok winced, panic spreading through him as a woman sitting nearby abruptly and inexplicably burst into tears, startling the bartender who had been pouring her a drink.

“Uh, just one moment please, Admiral,” Nimdok blurted. He scooped Miri up, looking around for a more remote section of the bar where he could sequester her in hopes of minimizing the damage, but the cleared-out booths were the best he could get. Sliding into a seat, he spoke quietly and simply to the child.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you. I didn’t want the grumpy old man to get angry at you for playing with his toy.”

Her sobs faded to whimpering after he apologized, and he felt her brush the corners of his mind, checking to see if he meant it. With her head resting against his chest and her hair pulled back, he realized for the first time that her tiny ears were slightly pointed—not at all surprising, given her parentage, but he hadn’t noticed it before.

“Will you sit here quietly while we talk?” he asked. “Without touching anything?”

Wiping her cheeks on the backs of her hands and sniffling, she nodded.

Nimdok turned back toward the others. The whole episode lasted no more than a couple of minutes, yet he felt mentally drained and unable to relax now that it was over. Clearing his throat, he addressed the admiral.

“My apologies for the delay. Children can be… difficult.” He wasn’t sure if the admiral was a family man; he didn’t seem like the type, but you never knew.

He glanced at the astromech droid. “I hope my daughter didn’t pull anything loose,” he remarked. “What do you have to show us?”

Constantine Oliva · May 2, 2020

The admiral seemed to rapidly change his demeanor. He went from confused and semi relaxed to serious. Interesting. He and the droid seemed to be at least acquainted. Then the bar owner began to clear out private booths with a word from the admiral. No doubt was left in Constantine's mind that this was indeed High Admiral Callaesar. Few others could command that much respect from the Anaxsi. AS they began to move to a newly opened booth, Constantine got up to approach the admiral. He wanted answers about what happened, and the admiral would be the one to know, if anyone did. Plus., friendships with the higher ups wouldn't hurt.

The pointy-eared man had pulled his child away, scolding her. The droids had both followed in, as well as the Miralan soldier, Constantine approached the group before snapping to attention for the admiral, for just a moment. He spoke clearly and quickly, proving to himself he hadn't consumed too much alcohol.

"High Admiral! I'm Captain Oliva of the Hawk. We were brought in to help shuttle refugees from their evacuation ships. My crew is resting, but I have a few questions as to what happened, if you don't mind the interruption."

Gala Geert Sienna Vekarr

Sienna Vekarr · May 2, 2020

When she and her accompanying Halcyon commandoes had disembarked after being given docking permission, she was surprised to find that the commanding officer had last been seen at a bar. A station like this in such a critical time....He should have been on the bridge. This must have been one of those strange things democratic militaries did. During her early years as a naval officer in the First Order not even off duty stormtroopers would have been allowed at the bars for this level of crisis. That being said she was much happier in her current position than being left out to die in deep space or locked away for life in a Corellian prison.

Her ear com pinged with the audio cue for H-Com, the Halcyon specific com network that linked the Halcyon under her command. The ping was just to let her know that the link had been established which was all she needed for the moment. She doubted that anything would go wrong here this far from the site of Gate opening in the neighboring sector. The trio walked through the station, catching stares and glimpses along the way she entered the bar, her green eyes scanning for anyone that looked important enough to be an Admiral.

"I'm looking for Admiral Callaesar of the First Anaxsi fleet." Her voice was cool and sharp but practiced as if she had spent years attempting to learn the Coruscanti-Imperial accent, which was true. She had spent decades perfecting the tones and sounds of the military elite within the First Order and she was proud of it.

Cassius Callaesar · May 2, 2020

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station

Gala Geert

As Nimdok becomes distracted with the young girl, Cassius is approached by the Anaxsi Captain who had been observing them. He turns his head to acknowledge the officer, eyes instinctively glancing to the rank plaque and name tags over his right breast. Cpt Constantine Oliva -- a strong Anaxsi name. Paired with the gaunt face and sharp features, there was no question he was a homegrown serviceman. Where others may have been met with attitude, a base level of respect is afforded to a fellow countryman in admirable pursuits.

"Cpt. Oliva," he repeats, considering the name of the vessel. It was not one that came to mind, but this was not surprising given the man's apparent age and rank. Nonetheless, any aid was welcomed under such circumstances. He nearly chuckles at the notion of rest, considering how frantic things had become in his own brief attempts at it. His eyes move from the astromech to the girl as she laughs, but he does well at masking his agitation "Well deserved, Captain. I suspect many sleepless nights lay ahead of us, so ensure they enjoy what they can."

Nodding to the final question, he adds "Given the already unorthodox nature of things, I'll grant you a seat here."

The situation on the station was a rapidly devolving one. The entire orbital had been thrown into a bustling hive of activity, making standard operating procedures a chore. Such a site was never intended for such an influx of refugees. At this point, despite the informality, improvisation would be the most efficient way to get things done.

Cassius shakes his head dismissively as the alleged archaeologist's focus is returned to the group. However, before he manages to reply the presence of Vekarr and her Halycon Commandos steals his full attention. Straightening himself in his seat, Cassius answers, "That would be me, Colonel. Welcome to Anaxes Station. Have you been made aware of any of the details of the Brentaalan distress signal thus far?"

He motions to the others who had joined him, "Our Response Fleet is still piecing together information collected in the system. We have theories," his eyes instinctively shoot to Nimdok "but plenty of heavy questions remain unanswered. I'm grateful to the Republic for being so quick to send aid. This gesture will not be forgotten." At that, he offers the woman a solemn nod out of respect.

Between the atmosphere of urgency across the station and the evident gloom looming over the refugees and naval personnel, it was no secret to those who hadn't been there themselves that something truly terrible had taken place. The Republic answering the Alliance's call to rally forces in the the Anaxes system against the potential threat developing nearby was one that was unexpected, but welcomed.

"If you would join us, Colonel Vekarr, we can bring you up to speed on the situation. This man here," he gestures with a hand to the pointed-eared fellow across from him "claims to be a specialist in matters of the Force. He and this astromech droid were about to brief us on information they share."

Loske Treicolt · May 3, 2020

Cassius Callaesar //

Jacen Nimdok // Sienna Vekarr //

Constantine Oliva //

Dak

Frank's dome swivelled in protest to the chubby touch of the child. He rocked side to side on his motorized treads to try and dissuade her from any further irritations, but it only seemed to delight her more. His indexes confirmed that this was a child. A subunit of a nuclear family and he shout not electrocute her. He also couldn't leave. So, he was woefully victim to whatever Mira decided to do while he waited for the organics to make introductions and confirmations and whatever else was necessary. At least the bar was being cleared out for them to share their reports. He made a few aggrieved blleeerrp and blleeüps in protest.

I don't have anything loose to pull. Frank hotly corrected the suggestion that some of his wiring may be faulty, or less than perfect. Such a suggestion would be a horrible insult to Mistress Talith. Although, he'd been out of her care for years and that responsibility was moreso on Matson's plate than anything.

His holo projector, which sometimes looked like a rubbery nose, twisted before a cerulean image manifested in the space between those gathered. Scan lines ran up and down the projection with little effect in marring the details. Just seemed to come with the program - he could never figure out how to iron it out. The rest of the bar's lights seemed unaffected, but the glow of the projection impressed those observing in a glow. A representation of Brentaal IV materialized, streaks that were the connecting hyperlanes included, and the moment of the impact which caused the otherwise warm planet to coalesce in streaks of blue to show the affected areas.

Allow me to present the aggregated data collected by myself, and other astromechs that were piloting in this area. This is a 3D high-accuracy, dynamical simulation of the accreting supermassive portal binary. This is a snapshot of the quasi-steady accretion state. For your observation and the purpose of comprehension.

While it could use some work on the scaling, it shows quite well the delta of Brentaal's thermal emissions prior to the attack. Note it's warm for life. The scores of what we were fighting are represented in blue, undead but scattered and difficult to fully capture. An obvious delta for your observation.

The representation of Brentaal IV scaled down in size, sharing the space with an unidentified silhouette. The only thing familiar about the faceless figure, was the strange skittering blue glow that staccato'd around the orange moving mesh. I've seen this before. My master, a Jedi, returned from something called the Netherworld with similar biothermals. They were faint, and nearly illegible at the time, but I recorded them anyway. Call him concerned about the residual after effects of the encounter. While the ones on Brentaal are significantly amplified from what I was able to scrape before, it's in agreement with previous work recorded in 844 ABY.

That work that took on the difficult task of representing high-energy emissions that some attribute to The Force.

Emissions that appeared in the atmospheric cavity that appeared above Brentaal IV. You can note the similarities in the brightening on the spectrum that scholars use to represent frequencies that are closely tied to the nuances of the metaphysical.

This is where I fail to continue. I don't know what else this means or what to do. But this is what I've recorded and paired with the archives.

Leon Gallo //

Auteme //

Leon Gallo said:
"I'm alright. I've got a few scratches and bruises, but nothing major. How are you doing?"

I'm glad to see you got back okay."

"We're...I'm...ah" The sob that had been trapped at the back of her throat choked through when he asked how she was doing.

Loske was emotionally spent after the shock of losing Brentaal, feeling The Force react to Cedric's fall, discussing the ramifications of shouldering burderns with Maynard, and having to admit to Auteme that Ryv was not going to be joining them for lunch anytime soon. She'd kept herself buttoned up until now, and the sad whimper that slipped through the gates suggested at the tidal wave that was crashing against the gates. Her cheeks felt as hollow as the rest of her, and coming up with an answer wasn't easy.

"Sad. Really sad. This sucks, and I hate it, and we lost too much. All these people around us lost too much ...I don't know. I don't know what we're gonna do. It's gotta be something but ah, right now?" She folded her arms over her chest, using the inside of her forearm to prop up an elbow so she could cover her mouth with a palm and gave way to a shudder - though no noise escaped this time. She was battening down the hatches again. Some people's families had been torn apart. Some people's lives would never be the same. She was a weapon, this is what happened in war. "I don't know what to do."

Jacen Nimdok · May 3, 2020

Constantine Oliva Sienna Vekarr

Another Anaxsi military man joined the group, along with a female colonel representing the Republic who showed up with an entourage of Halcyon Commandos. The impromptu (and “unorthodox” as the admiral put it) meeting had officially begun.

The astromech’s Binary presentation was a little hard to follow—and this was coming from a guy who was known for impressive verbosity—but Nimdok was able to get the gist of it. A portal to the Netherworld had opened up in the space next to Brentaal IV, corrupting the living into undead monstrosities that attacked everything in their path.

With the thermal emissions being displayed as the only concrete evidence they had, he was reminded of his own folly (or rather, the folly of the geneticist Arimanes Bosch) in attempting to view the Force through the lens of science, what could be observed, tested, proven and documented. Such a mentality reduced the cosmic web to little more than microscopic organisms in the blood that happened to be found in a minority percentage of mutants among the general population of the galaxy. But it was plain that thermal readings and blood samples would not help them deal with this situation.

“Your master went to the Netherworld in 844?” Nimdok asked the droid, raising an eyebrow. “Was the journey a physical or a spiritual one? And if they really did go to the Netherworld, do you know what they found there?”

For the benefit of the others sitting at the table, he added, “I’ve never heard of anyone venturing into the Netherworld and returning alive, so I’m afraid I must question the truth of such a claim. The Netherworld is not merely another dimension—it is the afterlife, the realm of the Force in which the spirits of the dead are said to dwell. By its very nature, only the dead should be permitted entry.

“Granted, there have been documented cases of deceased Force users learning a technique which would allow them to appear in the world of the living as ghosts, but those were non-physical manifestations limited to such parlor tricks as proffering advice and confirming the truth of shocking revelations. At worst, they were merely obnoxious poltergeists, using telekinesis to lift objects and causing lightning strikes to burn down buildings, for example...”

He trailed off, figuring they got the point by now. Anyway, his curiosity was piqued and he was as eager for answers as the rest of them.

Leon Gallo · May 4, 2020

Loske choked down tears in front of Leon. She covered her mouth after saying she was sad. Sad sounded like so much of an understatement. Even just lightly reaching out in the force, Leon felt her anguish. Hers, and the entire stations. He stumbled a moment, overcome by the sorrow, but steadied himself as he closed himself off as best he could. He looked at Loske, hoping she didn't notice the momentary intrusion. He straightened, trying to cover his sorrow stricken expression with one of hope.

"We'll figure out something to do. For now, we should rest so we can be prepared for whatever comes next. There's still some room left on the bench, you should sit."

Leon gestured to the bench with Auteme and Maynard, where there was still room for them both. Dak had been right, being alone in these times wouldn't end well for him, or anyone else. Loske needed support, and a quick glance at Auteme, who hadn't even been there, showed she was shaken up by the news of a lost friend. Maynard still looked dazed to Leon, but he felt that the other Jedi was in a similar mental state to him and Loske. Leon sawallowed some tears of his own, before sitting on the edge of the bench. He turned away as he felt his eyes watering too.

Auteme

Sienna Vekarr · May 5, 2020

Sienna pursed her lips, contemplating how much she should let the Alliance admiral know. Of course, the Republic was trying to further their connection and avoid a situation like Kuat again. She'd even heard rumors of the Republic joining the Alliance, though she couldn't say whether those rumors were true or not. Despite being told to cooperate with them she was Corellian intelligence, not Republic, and revealing too much could put her new home at risk. Her eyes scanned the room looking for sultry figures. Could everyone here be trusted? Was this area secure? She decided to wait to speak until she knew more about what they knew.

"The droid is probably telling the truth," she relented. "At least it is possible." This part was common knowledge with a little bit of non-black classified information. "The Gate on Corellia has been active since the Netherworld Crisis. We don't have much data, something about the Gates has been blocking communication to and from the Gates whenever we've sent teams in to investigate. But we have obtained," she paused trying to be as tasteful as possible, "...matter, back from our teams and a small number of Corellian Green Jedi have made brief trips in the past through our gate." She looked at the droid and the map. The implication was left in the air for the others to pick up but she wouldn't go into further detail on the missing recon teams or that Jedi seemed to have a higher rate of survival. She was told that it was because the Gate on Corellia opened up into a particularly brutal area of the Netherworld but having only seen their own reports she couldn't imagine how anyone could survive there.

"In fact, that is why I'm here. Whatever happened on Brentaal IV caused some sort of energy feedback loop at our Gate. Corellian Strategic Intelligence pressed the importance of this development to the Republic in order to further understanding the previously activated gates on Corellia, Csilla, and Dathomir." Though the most important in that list was obviously Corellia to their researchers.

Constantine Oliva · May 5, 2020

Constantine took up a position by the booth's door, letting the more senior figures in the room have better seating. His eyes focused on the droid's presentation. He noticed almost every detail as he watched, but missed what the droid said. Only once it finished did he begin listening to the conversation. The situation on the planet had indeed been dire. He began to piece together what was said with the responses of the Corelian and the pointy-eared man. He'd heard of the Netherworld from his siblings, and he knew that it wasn't something natural. Something he could could take on without force users.

"We can harm the monsters with conventional means, right? If so, then we may be able to launch a coordinated counterattack on them so the Jedi can close the gate without worrying about the monster attacking."

He watched the room, listening in further. If the Corellians were concerned about an attack through their gate, then maybe the Alliance could receive aid from the Republic. The initial response and evacuation of Brentaal IV was disorganized and scattered. While the speed was needed, it prevented having the forces necessary to fully stop the crisis in one move. Now that they were able to reorganize and prepare, they could strike effectively before the crisis could spread to other systems.

Jacen Nimdok Sienna Vekarr