Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private The Abrion Pact

Following the events that transpired across Confederate space, Vylmira faced a catastrophic loss of life before the neighboring worlds could intervene and help to save the people from the force of corruption that was turning people, particularly force users into strange beasts. Scarif and Kamino had been largely untouched by the events and were among the first to respond to Vylmira’s cries for assistance, within minutes the combined might of the Kaminoan Home Fleet, along with the Scarif and Clone forces were able to secure the remaining population and hold a defensive line until the crisis had ended.

As a result of both the tragedy and the response of the neighboring worlds to it, Scarif would invite all the nearby world representatives to join the Viceroy on Scarif to discuss a way of ensuring no further tragedy would befall one of the worlds in their sector again and help Vylmira rebuild.

 

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'Incident Response Centre, The Temple, Planetary Administrative Complex, New Lessu, Scarif."

She’d imagined it differently.

She thought the idea of leaders and people, turning to her for aid, would be some glorious moment, bathed in a warm sort of shimmer that accompanied such heroic moments. She would tend to their wounds, dab their cuts, care for the needy and banish sorrow and strife.

It smelt of sweat. And urine.

She swallowed hard. She dare not speak. She watched a survivor, wounds etched into her face like the lines that scarred the Southern Hemisphere of Scarif itself, being tended to as Hester moved towards the main Incident Response Centre.

They had built the Death Star here.

She had been told that by many an Imperial during their last occupation. They had held the planet in some sort of reverence for its part in days ancient and forgotten. Now it held the stale silence that lingered when panic, frustration and fear mingled in the air, like an anxious cocktail.

Hester pulled up all the data she could as she walked; the reserves of construction droids and drones that had built their glorious new city, the reserves of medical supplies, food, doctors, fire marshals and the remnants of the old Planetary Defence Force. Scarif would give what it had and buy what it did not.

A great sacrifice would be needed to rebuild Vylmira; the citadel world that housed so much of the armament and soldiery of the CIS armies. She had been so glib to invite delegates to the brand-new city of New Lessu, its smart avenues and boulevards leading to towers that plunged into the sky, facades that burst from the ground with majesty. She had wanted, deep down, to show off the new might of a militarised Scarif, a new forge world that would bring glory to this corner of the Confederacy. Now she stood, humbled and embarrassed. She watched the delegates, some barely clinging onto the clothes that hung off their hungry shoulders. She had offered refreshment and aid, but it had been, for the most part, rejected. It was as if there was some honour or self-flagellation in the act of retaining the clothes in which they had suffered so outrageous a tragedy. The brightness and heat of Scarif’s pleasant tropics must have been a strange sensation, the stories and images of beasts and monsters tearing folk limb from limb playing over and over. Hester swallowed again.

She’d imagined it differently.

Every time she went to speak, the words choked her. This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. She was a great orator. She could fill minds with wonderful thoughts, effervescent language that could inspire and encourage. Nothing quite came to mind when faced with the remnants of a soul, clutching to a body with all the resolve it could martial and muster. She had seen various holo-recordings of the incidents. Barbarism. Unholy barbarism. She was wary of the Force. She had met Force users, the Vicelord himself even. But she did not like what she had seen it do. She had imagined it differently.

She entered the IRC and headed for her seat, seats around the central circular console placed for the various delegations to sit in. She thanked the aide as they helped her sit, her sensible grey suit with its high collar clutching her throat creaking as it flexed in the seat. She breathed again, waiting for the delegations to arrive. The planet was in some form of minor lock-down-the Shield Gate was closed, barring entry by foreign delegations flashing the right entry codes. The planet was sealed and all craft grounded; this was a war and a need for calm and vigilance was most prevalent.

She’d imagined it differently.












 
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Tenith Vilde

Guest
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Location: Scarif
Attire: [xXx]
Tags: | Hester Shedo Hester Shedo | Kyyrk Kyyrk | Rann Thress Rann Thress | Teac Sadru | Raven Thystle Raven Thystle | Alistaire R. Markinswell III | Derek Dib Derek Dib |

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It had not been the time to be called away from home. There had still been much to do; bodies to be properly taken care of so that the souls could be at peace. Damages to be repaired, to homes, crops, and people in general - those who survived at least. The Darkness had come to life out of nowhere, striking at a time when the people of Roon were vulnerable anyhow. Storm season was relentless, dangerous, and deadly enough on it's own without people being afflicted and tainted by such evil that they literally shifted and twisted to something else entirely.

Perhaps it had been fitting in a way; the lightning had been the backdrop and illumination for such horrors. Effects that could not be bought or properly replicated with all of the credits in the vast expanses of the universe. It had been the darkest of nights, in more ways than one, and it would be a night the people of Roon would not soon forget.

So when word had reached Tenith of this meeting of nearby planetary leaders, she had at first not desired to go. Too much to be done, she was needed at home, among what was left of her clan. But, she could also not ignore the ideal of aid. While her people would not accept the technologies of these other planets and cultures, there were other resources they could benefit from, and so she went.

Arriving to Scarif had not been ideal, though that was largely in part to the fact that Tenith still did not like to fly. Add that to whatever was going on with landing - she didn't quite understand, considering she was only just not tolerant of technology herself - and it had made quite a tense landing process. She had nearly fun from the vessel as soon as the ramp had been extended and the doors were opened to her. She had glowered only once over her shoulder, and then allowed herself to be ushered to where ever it was she was supposed to be. The languages were getting easier, especially Basic, but there were still times she could only follow so much with people she really wasn't needing to pay attention to.

The attendant had led her along, no longer attempting to make small talk when it became apparent that this Viceroy had no intentions of carrying on a conversation. Tenith was shown to the room where she was apparently expected, and then she gave pause and frowned. Everything was always so much more advanced than what she was used to, or wanted to deal with for that matter. One of these days, she was going to have to host one of these things on Roon just to feel comfortable while doing her job.

...Although, her people wouldn't care much for that.

Whatever the case, Tenith sighed through her nose and lift her gaze across the room to the redhead that was already seated. She hadn't met this woman before, not that, that was entirely uncommon for Teni. But she nodded her head in greeting as she wasn't quite ready to attempt to speak up, and then found herself a seat which she then carefully set herself down on. Maybe she needed to start at least bringing her own seating...
 
Scariff, owing to the presence of the Dauntless headquarters, had always been a busy planet. But even the relative peace and quiet was shattered by an incoming radio message. Ships were preparing for arrival. A small section of space was requested cleared, and designated a no-fly zone. The first of the ships dropped from hyperspace shortly thereafter. A small contingent of Octarch strike fighters and Mynock interceptors drifted with their excess momentum for a moment, before the afterburners roared to life, sending the ships into a sweep and clear pattern, ensuring that the arrival zone was clear for the true arrival.

Moments later, a pair of super carriers, The Vanguard and her sister The Bastion, arrived in Scariff orbit, alongside an escort of Obsidian class Star Destroyers. These ships were here primarily to refuel and resupply. But they also escorted a most valuable cargo. Following a spike in comm activity, another grouping of Obsidians dropped from Hyperspace, followed closely by the flagship of the Vylmiran Fleet.

The Desolation. A mighty warship hailing from aeons past. It had seen many campaigns in the wars of old. But none had been as harrowing or devastating as the one for which it had been named. The Desolation of Zakuul. With a fearless admiral at the helm, and a crew dedicated to her cause, even unto death, the Desolation was a ship of legend. Even before Voph had returned to reclaim it as his flagship once more. And now, with Voph himself at the helm once again, the Desolation threw itself headlong into perhaps its most vital mission yet.

The continuity of the Vylmiran people.

Voph, like so many others, had been loath to come and speak with the other leaders. His place was with his people. With his planet. But he was being pulled in many directions. He had been there when the Cataclysm had first begun. He had been in the halls of the Citadel, watching with horror as the scourge swept across the Confederate space. In a matter of hours, the Knights Obsidian had been brought to their knees. Voph knew well that his was not the only planet to suffer. But a planet as entwined in the Force as Vylmira? The effects had been devastating.

Voph had sat motionless in his chambers for the duration of the journey. Hunched over, and mulling over the happenings of the last 72 hours in his head. Vylmira was not the only home of the Miraluka race. But losing it was still a considerable blow. A soft voice from the doorway informed him they had arrived. So Voph stood, pushing away the medical droid, and began walking toward the shuttle bay while the droid fluttered along behind him, squaking at his indignation.

'All hands, ship is operating at Code Red. All non essential personnel are confined to quarters. Please adhere to all directives issued by security staff. If you are in need of non-critical medical care, a medical will be dispatched to your room. All critical states must be reported to security.'

Voph heard the echo of the scheduled announcement ring through the halls. Continuity of government. A contingency that he had planned for, but never wished to use. It was supposed to be the High Councilor attending this meeting. But she, along with the rest of the Council, had perished in the attack. Now Voph was all that was left. Not even the Viceroy had survived. So, the burden of leadership fell to him once again.

This was not the first time he had found himself in dire straits. But there was something about this time that left him feeling...empty. Of course, he knew deep down what it was. His planet was devastated, and his people on the verge of extinction once again. And, in the time he had taken to travel to Scariff, the exhaustion had set in. As Voph settled into the shuttle that would escort him to the surface, the medical droid resumed attempted to continue patching the smaller wounds with dabs of bacta.

The shuttle launched, flanked by two Ravager patrol craft, and escorted by a wing of Octarch fighters.

'Scariff Command, this is Vylmiran Remnant, requesting permission to pass through the shield gate.'

A rather grim call sign. But an appropriate one. The shuttle slowed slightly as it approached the closed gate, but picked up speed again as the gate opened. It soon came to land near the designated gathering point, and the three primary vessels began to offload their passengers. Most were officers from the Vylmiran Defense Fleet, there to coordinate refueling and staging with the Scariff command and Dauntless Commandos. But five individuals walked with a different purpose. Seen off world for the first time in decades, four members of the Vylmiran High Guard walked with Voph towards the meeting. Clad in crimson armor, each wielding an impressive crimson glance, and silently daring something or someone to challenge them.

Voph arrived to the meeting room, and paused in the doorway. The summons had been for the Viceroyalty of the affected planets. Not him. So he could imagine it was something of a sight for the Lord Commander of the Knights Obsidian to arrive still covered in dirt and grime from his efforts on both Geonosis and Vylmira. Even his hair, normally kept in a strict pony tail, was disheveled and in need of maintenance. Voph bowed stiffly to the host, a young woman whom he had not had prior experience with. "I apologize for the delay. The Vylmiran government is in something of a state of disarray. I have been chosen as the emergency envoy until such a time that a new Viceroy may be elected."

Voph then turned, and took his seat without comment, the medical droid at his shoulder finally setting to on stitching the deeper wounds that had gone untended.

Hester Shedo Hester Shedo | Rann Thress Rann Thress | Tenith Vilde | Teac Sadru | Raven Thystle Raven Thystle | Alistaire R. Markinswell III | Derek Dib Derek Dib
 

Teac Sadru

Guest
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T R A G E D Y

Seventy-Two hours, that is precisely how long it had taken Vylmira a vibrant world full of life and strength to be reduced to a meager number of survivors, as a scientist numbers were absolute and infallible, and for the Kaminoan’s empathy was not usually associated with their motives but when the first distress calls had come from Vylmira and Roon as well, the entirety of the Kaminoan Home Fleet had been mobilized. While the conditions were unknown the bulk of the fleet had remained in orbit while six ships set out to assist those in need, three to Roon and three to Vylmira.

From the moment the clone troopers landed on both worlds the information that began flooding in was dire, the decision by Teac to clad the clones in force dead armor at the time may have seemed costly and foolish, may have saved the lives of a great many clones and in retrospect helped to save two worlds. The clones had performed marvelously, the training and arms provided by Breshig had exceeded all their expectations, the clones were not only able to survive but push the defensive perimeter back on both worlds ensuring the survival of its people, yes of course it was not just the clones that were instrumental in the defense of both planets but as far as his data went, that was all of his concern as he walked to the conference room on Scarif he was accompanied by CC-55118 who continued to brief him on operations on the ground on both worlds.

The mission had changed now, it had gone from defense to search and recovery, and nearly six hundred thousand clones were mobilized across the sector. Kamino itself still sat with its shield gate active and the Home Fleet in orbit awaiting orders. He dismissed the clone general as he himself entered the conference room, the tall Kaminoan’ ducking under the small door frame.

He took careful stock of the room before walking in and quietly sitting in a chair near one of the large windows, grey eyes focused on the other occupants in the room, there were words to be said but they were not his, picking up a datapad he sighed as he read over the latest reports, no comfort would come from Kamino in form of words of compassion but in deeds only.

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Space was rent in twain as yet another small grouping of ships arrived in system. The USC Harbinger pierced the emptiness with its pointed bow, several destroyers and frigates slipping in behind the Prometheus MK 1 Class Battle Cruiser. He sat in the command chair, arms resting to either side while his red rimmed eyes stared at their destination through the screens. His right hand lay unnaturally still, the perks of having robotics covered with rybocoarse and laminanium sheathing the entire hand to his shoulder in a sheen of metallic epidermis. His left however twitched uncontrollably as though sandworms roved just below the surface.

Absently he brought his hands together and the gunmetal digits of his right massaged deeply into his left palm to find relief from the spasms. Commander Frakes watched the Viceroy waiting for orders even as he led the bridge like a master maestro leading an orchestra. The man knew his duties and performed them flawlessly. Eyes closed with a sigh of relief as the tremors paused in their near constant attack on his frame.

He was on Geonosis, upon the sands of the arena, standing with the sun beating down upon his bare shoulders. The wan-shen held in his hands were aimed at the kneeling man before him. Muad rested, knees burrowed upon the sand and equally disrobed with only brown trousers on. A beskad was buried before him as he waited, breath coming in slow and steady and a long exhale.

The force flowed through Derek as he attacked. The wan-shen drove forward thrusting for his brother’s jugular. Yet Muad was no longer there. The madman had snapped up his beskad and the two slowly circled one another, both wearing similar smirks of expectation. Leaping forward their weapons clashed against each other as the men both strained, muscles bunching as snarls etched their faces and eyes glowed respective blues and reds.

And then Derek dropped to the sands as an onslaught swept over his fractured mind, ghostly apparitions drifting across his mind’s eye even as he saw the mirage of his brother cutting down creatures and deformed beings just before unconsciousness claimed him and a contingent of his guards began lifting him from the ground.

His eyes reopened upon the bridge and he gave the commander a brief nod before rising, using the silver staff, and moving for the turbolifts. He had a meeting to attend and he feared he was already late. Within a short amount of time he was on his way. As the shuttle landed and he made his way to the meeting room he briefly wondered at the state of Siskeen, Geonosis, and all the other planets within Confederate space that was afflicted by the phenomenon. Even the Siskeen System was touched by the malady that festered within those with force abilities and above average midichlorian count. Countless injured and dead on Siskeen as the infected lost the very aspects that made them conscious beings and degraded them to monsters that eviscerated those around like rabid creatures.

The measures that quickly became necessary to contain the outbreak weighed heavily upon him. His orders, his decisions. And though the others in his command and political spheres of influence agreed it was perhaps the most direct and effective response, all deflected the responsibility that Derek, as Viceroy, took upon his shoulders.

It was by his very hand the turbolasers flashed from orbit.

Entering the room he gave a brief nod to those within, eyes lighting upon the Lord Commander only to turn away as he took a seat. Quietly he introduced himself to those who may not be aware of his identity.

“Derek Dib, Viceroy of the Siskeen System and the United Siskeen Coalition within her borders.”

The staff telescoped in upon itself, remaining a mere six inches in length which allowed him to slip it into the sheath along the small of his back. His obsidian suit and shirt was marred only by the crimson tie that hung from the collar like a wound down his chest. His eyes seemed more red rimmed than normal, his skin a paler pallor than usual. It was obvious he was still recovering from the wounds sustained in the meeting between the Confederacy and the Agents of Chaos. The left side of his face rippled as the muscles in his face contracted and writhed uncontrollably for several seconds even as he turned his head and lightly coughed into the metallic sheen of his replaced limb in an attempt to conceal the momentarily weakness that ignited a spark of fury that was nearly uncontrollable.

His face smoothed and his temper eased back into the realm of normalcy. Or what was once normal for the man named Derek Dib before a bullet was sent into his brain. The man he once was.

Kyyrk Kyyrk Rann Thress Rann Thress Hester Shedo Hester Shedo Teac Sadru Tenith Vilde Raven Thystle Raven Thystle Alistaire R. Markinswell III
 
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THE PACT



It didn't take much to convince Rann to come here, to Scariff, following the cataclysm. As soon as he returned to Rannon, Gavin Nalle, the new Viceroy of the planet was there to meet him at Point Besboi. His ship was supposed to take him directly to the Temple in the Valley, not there. But when Rann was told of what happened, he understood completely.

There were very few force users or Knights Obsidian on Rannon but what few there were were in the Valley. Studying the area, directing the refurbishment and renovation of the old Temple, and searching for old artifacts. When the cataclysm hit, and the valley reduced to another nightmare hellscape, Viceroy Nalle acted quickly, working to quarantine the valley. As of yet, it is unknown if any survivors remain in the area from either Force Users or civilian contractors working in the temple. Seventy Two hours after the Catacylsm, hopes were.... low.

Rann escaped Geonosis with his life. Barely. Only to return to his home and find it devastated. His temple, his grand experiment, a failure. The Valley, a quarantined nightmare now worse than when the CIS had found it. Even from his penthouse in the Tower he could feel the stink from the Valley. Rann was never really...a sad person. But following the Cataclysm he found himself crying a lot.

He didn't know why. Was it the loss of the Valley? The Temple? What happened at the Citadel? He didn't know. But he felt the need to do good. So when the invitation came to arrive on Scarif to discuss what to do moving forward for the planets in Abrion, he agreed immediately.

Rann and Gavin arrived on Scarif and very quickly moved to join the delegation. Following Derek Dib Derek Dib 's arrival, he and Gavin entered the room.

"Rann Thress, Lord of Rannon. And Gavin Nalle, Viceroy of Rannon." Rann said as he and Gavin found their seats.

He'd hoped this to be a productive meeting. People were dying, to this day. He needed to help.

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VICEROY THYSTLE

Location: Scarif
Appearance: XoXo | Hair

Raven was old enough to have seen many an empire rise and fall. To watch the timeless battle between the Sith and the Jedi rage on within the universe and to watch many planets go dark from the inevitable consequences. In fact, she had become numb to the plight of others as they suffered from those consequences. People who lacked the strength to go out and fix their own situation, would hold their hands out and beg for scraps, only to curse at their own luck. They would cry and scream as they fell into the victim role of self-pity. Felacat hadn’t been such a planet to do as such. Instead, they had rejected outsiders and found themselves thriving after the countless losses they had once taken due to outsider influence. Granted. Such a thing had only been possible after they had found themselves situated inside the Confederacy cloud. Which was the only reason that the vampiress had decided to attend this meeting.

To her, this was simply another meeting, fueled by another Viceroy's agenda. How else could it ever be interpreted? Someone always wanted something and although she found it to be a slight inconvenience, it mattered naught. A Viceroy’s job was never done and such inconveniences were always to be expected. Nevertheless, the woman found herself as one of the last, entering the chambers that held the meeting of all that had gathered. Her timing was perfect, and deliberate, for she never did anything that wasn’t intentional. Like her bodyguards for example. They were always following close upon her heels, especially since the day when she had been kidnapped. Except, they had started to grow rather relaxed since then and there was reasoning behind that. ”Raven Thystle, Viceroy of Felacat.” The vampiress said, with the same bored and emotionless expression upon her face.

Never did she ever give away her true intentions, for everything was a game and life was fickle. After introducing, herself, the woman moved to seat herself down at the table, while Nadia and Nala took up their position behind her, but right up against the wall till the shadows of the wall seemed to almost swallow them up. The bodyguards were always a precaution, but there was another reason for them. One could say, it was a ruse, one that would allow those to think less of her abilities.

Quietly, she angled her head slightly to the right for a moment as her chocolate gaze touched upon those already present. She knew three of them, Voph, Viceroy Shedo and Viceroy Dib and her gaze lingered upon the Viceroy of Siskeen for a moment with quiet thoughts. The woman had wondered about the man’s recovery and she could see for herself as to how well he was going, but she did remember the outburst upon his reappearance after the fact. His body may be recovering, yet she wondered about his mental health. Would he be able to ever lead as he once did? Only time would tell. Finally, her gaze shifted to the Viceroy of Scarif, the redheaded woman and she quietly watched her for a moment. Raven couldn’t say that she knew this new Viceroy, only that she had seen her when a gathering had been called by Viceroy Rommer.

Perhaps, upon this day and in this place, she would find out as to what kind of spine this woman had. After all, it took some semblance of a spine to call a meeting of individual Viceroys and risk their wrath of having been pulled away from their own agendas. Some might even call it a little reckless, yet the vampiress decided to withhold her judgement for now. Perhaps, some fruit might be borne of this little venture that they found themselves within.
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Hester watched in silent contemplation.

She would wait until all that were arriving could arrive and settle. Time was paramount but she would not rush her colleagues. These were each venerated and respected leaders, her equals in the Confederacy. They had the hearts and minds of their respective peoples and what they decided today would determine their fates for unknown time to come.

Tenith Vilde was first to make an appearance. She was strikingly stressed; it did not do well for Hester to be distracted at such times but Tenith’s visage wasn’t entirely wasted on Hester. The word scantily was appropriate, but she did not want to degenerate an entire race and culture into the pros and cons of ample coverage.

Roon

Lord Commander Voph loomed in the doorway, striking, and yet lurching. His hair cascaded down like a bog-creature she imagined lived on some distant planet, unkempt and unruly. She was doing it again. She was judging without taking into consideration the little-known facts. Some epic and cataclysmic ‘Force’ event had taken hold on several neighbouring worlds and wreaked untold and unaccountable havoc. The toll would be heaviest on Vylmira. Voph wasn’t even Viceroy.

They’re probably dead, she thought. Voph confirmed this moments later.

Vylmira

The slender form of Teac Sadru swayed into the chamber next, accompanied by a robust droid. She was always fascinated with Kiminoans, their unusual length a source of great curiosity to her. They were often pallid, translucent even, and their eyes held a brilliance not unlike the stars themselves. Kamino had taken a brunt of the heavy lifting, deploying their clone armies in the tens and tens of thousands. Kamino, Scarif’s closest neighbour, was someone to respect and admire. They had been major players in the Galaxy for near a thousand years and would, under their current administration, continue to be so.

Kamino

Derek Dib made his entrance next, courteous, and somewhat refined and yet bathed in mystique and mystery. Hester smiled to herself; this was a man she liked the look of. Again, her mind raced to thoughts that should remain firmly sealed at a time such as this, but she fought it as best she could, revelling in his undeniable loveliness.

Siskeen

The next two to enter were an anxious pair, quick to enter and find their seats. They were the Lord and the Viceroy of their planet, one effected greatly by this great tragedy that was playing out on holo-screens across Scarif.

Rannon

The last to enter in the moment was the strangest of all. Hester adjusted her position in her seat, curious as to the essence of this arrival. Hester knew this was one of the ancient beings in the Galaxy, one that had seen everything. This even was just another event, like a birthday or a sunset. Except there were thousands who would see neither again.

Felacat

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Hester watched them all. Each planet helping or coping as best it could. Scarif had been unscoured by this event and the Shield Gate, like their Kaminoan brothers, had been sealed to prevent any comings or goings. She coughed a little and spoke softly.

“I cannot begin to express the distress this tragedy has caused our people. Our citizens. Our soldiers. Our livelihoods. So, I shan’t.”

She shifted her gaze to Tenith, then Sadru.

“You are invited here as guests of Scarif, as a haven. As we speak, the great drone army that built this fine city is being prepped for off-world operations, wherever they are needed first. There are 2000 droid and 2000 drones, combined to form working pairs. These two legions will be dispatched to aid in any rebuilding efforts required. We have ample materials with which to aid in any recovery efforts, which will be at your disposal. We cannot offer you an army yet or a grand navy worthy of this great undertaking, but we can offer our courage and our spirit.”

She breathed heavily.

“These are, in themselves, vacant and useless. I see that”

She stared at Lord Voph. It scared her to the core that such a powerful figure looked so…lost.

“But we will do our best to aid you in this cause. Scarif is ready and will do whatever is necessary. Ask it and it shall be yours if it is in our power to do so.”

She flicked her hand and a data projection filled the centre of the conference table. Numbers and graphs spiralled.

“The death toll is unknown yet. Forward positions estimate a range of the tens to the hundreds of thousands. This loss is incalculable. For that reason, Scarif is also willing to bolster credit reserves and suspend any tariffs that exist between the cooperating members here present for the time being. It is little consolation but anything we can do to aid the unaidable is something.”

Hester was sombre and serious. She knew that she had no real understanding of the scale of what was raging on the planets, most she had never been to.

“We will try” She prayed that she did not seem insincere. She felt this to the bottom of her very core.


 
Voph sat with his hands clasped together on the table in front of him. The droid at his shoulder sewing away at what appeared to be a massive claw along his right cheek, leaving four deep grooves along the tattered flesh. The pain of the wound must be immeasurable. But he did not react to it. In fact, it did not seem to bother him at all. And it was not immediately clear if it was because of drugs, or willpower. He did not move as he spoke, instead staring directly into the table. "Vylmira is not concerned with military might. We have enough of our own. Four Hundred kilometers worth of battleships, and the crews to match. No, if anything, it is we who shall be lending strength through arms. The men of the Octarchy are resilient. Driven. They would gladly give their lives if it meant just one other was saved."

Voph looked up towards Hester, causing the droid to squawk as the target of its work shifted. A hand was raised, summoning forth a map in place of the data that Hester had summoned. Spots began to light up, as the Knights Obsidian resources and personnel locations were highlighted. "This catastrophe was our fault. And we have paid the price." Voph gestured again, and the hundreds of thousands of names and indicators began to blink out, slowly reforming into a simple list, of less than one hundred. "Hundreds of thousands, yes. Of the Knights Obsidian alone. The planets themselves? Untold devastation. Though, I take solace in the fact that Vylmira was the worst."

Voph fell quiet for a moment, the lost appearance giving way to...determination. Voph had been defeated. But not destroyed. And for all his thousands of years, one thing had been made clear again and again. That which did not kill Voph?

Just made him mad.


"The planet is uninhabitable. All survivors have been withdrawn to the Desolation, as well as the Vanguard and the Bastion." As Voph spoke, his AI Darcy called forth images and reports to better illustrate this. "The Cataclysm is not yet contained, but it is on the decline. The Vee-Tee-Eye Shipyards have served as a staging point for expeditions to the surface. We expect that repopulation efforts may begin within the week. While many of the outlying provinces have suffered catastrophic damage and losses, Vylmira City is intact. By week's end, we hope to fortify it for the safety of the new colonists. The primary facilities of Vee-Tee-Eye are also located within the city, meaning that our economy may recover quickly. But that does not change the sobering fact."

Voph looked around the room for a moment. "My people, the Miraluka, have only colonized a single world after our homeworld, Alpherides. Vylmira. The losses we have suffered...leads me to fear that I may have become one of a nearly extinct species."

 

Tenith Vilde

Guest
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Tags: | Hester Shedo Hester Shedo | Kyyrk Kyyrk | Raven Thystle Raven Thystle | Teac Sadru | Alistaire R. Markinswell III | Rann Thress Rann Thress |

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Plenty of bodies had filled the room, bodies that Tenith did not fully recognize. She had been present very little for things Viceroy related since the disappearance of her Master, and without the added buffer to push her along, she had not ventured unless it was absolutely necessary. And considering none had come looking for her? Well, it was no real loss either way. It's not as if Roon had not been doing alright the way it was. New developments, new people to grace the planet, the works. No, there had been no real loss...not until this Darkness had come and extinguished as much of the Light as it could.

When the table between the lot of them seated came to life with imagery, Tenith hissed through her teeth and made quite the distasteful face. Steadily becoming acquainted with technology or not, she still didn't like it. Especially when it sprang up out of nowhere and with no warning. She found herself sinking back into her seat more, frowning at the display for more than just the reasons displayed in statistics.

But those statistics were real, and when more information was presented, those statistics were real too. While Tenith had of course not suspected that her home was the only place affected by this plague - considering they were all here - she had not expected such numbers. The losses were immeasurable, and there was a tightening in her chest as well as a knot that formed in her stomach as the people around the room continued to speak.

"My clan is nearly gone as well." she finally spoke up, struggling with the proper words in Basic, but they were all there, heavily rolled in the vowels but at least they were all the correct words used. "But, we were not an entire population..." Her gaze shifted to Voph, and there was honest sympathy in her expression. While it was hard to lose the majority of numbers to her clan, she could never imagine what it was like to be one of the last of your species.
 

Teac Sadru

Guest
T

Teac listened as each of the assembled Viceroys spoke in turn talking of various situations throughout the sector, he simply took in all the information as each of them spoke at length, when finally there a came a pause in the discussion, he sat down the reports he had been reading over and looked to each of them in turn.​
“The loss of life is tragic and on a scale that is horrific, you have our sympathies. Thankfully however it was not total, as the Lord Commander made mention. Vylmira is still very much unsafe and currently the clones on the ground there are providing security while the remaining populace is evacuated” it was as much of a heartfelt sense of sorry for a fellow sentient as one might expect from a Kaminoan though Teac himself was especially emotionally removed from such feelings.​
Teac took over the central display with a wave of his hand and zoomed out to a wide sector view showing Kamino’s placements throughout the sector. “Currently we have around six hundred thousand clones spread across the sector to provide security and evacuation assistance as needed, we are able to deploy another one point four million clones if necessary, all of those have been loaded onto our fleet in orbit of Kamino and are awaiting deployment orders at this time.”
He folded his hands in front of him, the tall alien surveyed the room with big silvery eyes that while seeming cold seemed to at least understand that the people in the room were very emotional and guarded his words carefully. “At this time, I would like to offer any who are critically wounded be taken to Kamino for medical treatment, we have the finest facilities in the Confederacy your wounded will find no better care.”

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They gathered under an auspicious day, a day that watched even more fall to the calamity that gripped the Confederates. What the end result would be, none of them yet knew. But what was known was that the death toll climbed and would most likely peak in the tens of millions. At the least. The viceroyalty gathered were all touched by the event, the grip of catastrophe leaving it's imprint upon each and everyone of them. There was no right way to handle what occurred, and yet his handling of the situation in his space was both straightforward and disastrous.

However, his space was currently freed from the horrors that still plagued the worlds of the Confederacy. His lips twitched down for only a split second before the neutral mask he wore slipped back upon his features. His harsh choice safeguarded his system and people from more death. But in no way was his actions right. Just? Perhaps. Necessary? Quite possibly. Effective? In absolute terms.

Even so, the loss of life that echoed in the force from all corners of their systems, and beyond, revealed just how horrifyingly things could escalate. The emotion that permeated the other viceroys' words struck a chord within his heart. He was empathetic with the ordeals that wracked his fellow leaders. And the fact that even now death and destruction shook their worlds made him close his eyes for a few moments of silent recognition for all that was lost.

He was not unaware of the subtle attention aimed in his direction. The scar over his brow twinged slightly causing him to wince slightly. The medical diagnosis was not physical persay, but psychological. Then again when he searched for a memory that was eradicated by the trauma sustained, he often felt the flash of pain of the slug piercing his skin to tear through his cranium and destroy aspects of his brain. That he was able to retain any memory or learned motor function was a miracle of the force and modern medicine. Both of which were debts owed to the Corvinus couple.

Still, it bothered him when his choices were looked at with curiosity and worry. That his decision wasn't one he would have made before his injury. The duality of who he was once and who he had become was always at the fire.

Each viceroy offered their assistance to the others. A unity of purpose bringing the viceroys and their systems of closer proximity into a potential alliance within the Confederacy. The irony was not list on him that not so long ago he wished to do the very same thing with the southern systems. That it took a cataclysmic event was quite sad.

Once there was a pause within the conversation he cleared his throat with a light cough into clenched first.

"I too would offer my assistance. The Siskeen System also has ships, troops, and fruits that can assist all others gathered today. I fear that the role effect of this event has not yet finished it's spread. Vigilance and logic must prevail where emotions could hinder clear and concise action. Any assistance that my people or I can add, is given."

He leaned back slightly, a signal that he was finished with his own announcement. It was still surprising to see the Lord Commander in such a state, both physically and emotionally. An obvious statement of the inherent danger posed to all. Their redheaded host spoke with authentic compassion. Endearing that she would care enough to look out from her own borders.

The viceroy of Felacat kept her peace along with careful control of her feelings on the matter. The stony facade hid her thoughts well. Tenith shared an equally upsetting sentiment that arose from the losses obtained, similar to Voph. Teac, the elegant kaminoan, proposed use of her clones and medical facilities.

Yes, it would seem these members of the viceroyalty gathered for a purpose of strength in numbers. A combined weight of might. The possibilities of remaining closer allies was not lost on the Viceroy of Siskeen. It wasn't an unpleasant idea.

And so he quietly watched and listened to see what would star from this union of viceroys.

Kyyrk Kyyrk Raven Thystle Raven Thystle Hester Shedo Hester Shedo Kana Dhar Tenith Vilde Teac Sadru Rann Thress Rann Thress Hester Shedo Hester Shedo
 

Kana Dhar

Guest
K

“Ma’am, the summit is beginning.” The voice was timid and soft as a young woman attempted to draw the attention of Rishi’s Viceroy, Kana Dhar. The comments from the assistant seemed to fall upon deaf ears though as the Viceroy was preoccupied with the current situation on Rishi. Of how this, well whatever it was, had infected and transformed a number of her citizens into what could only be referred to as monstrosities. It was a wonder she, herself, had not been affected so. As it seemed whatever it was that caused this primarily targeted force sensitives. And as a natural empath, she had been able to feel the change, but with her lack of knowledge and trying she had been unable to act before it was too late. Before whatever it was that had caused this had taken route on Rishi. The terror and misery that gripped the people of Rishi, she could feel to her very core.

“What’s the situation? Is this tragedy contained?” Kana’s words seemed almost desperate as her words fell upon the ears of Rishi’s lead security officer and physician. There was a certain panic shown in her demeanor which stemmed from her immense concern for her people. After all, they had elected her to represent them. Her to ensure the Confederacy levied upon them the best lives they could afford. And that their safety would be of paramount importance. The latter of those taskings being one she’d felt now was a promise she’d failed, utterly, to deliver upon. There was an anguish felt within the very heart of her people and she had been powerless to stop it. Had she not acted fast enough? Could she have done more? What would be the toll placed upon Rishi? Not just infrastructurally, but emotionally as well. Would they ever truly be able to recover? And would their faith in the Confederacy that vowed to protect them be shaken?

She directed her attention fully on the physician now, a certain sadness pervasive in her eyes. “Have we made any headway on the possibility to reverse the effects on those infected?” A return to normalcy was what Kana desired. Even the slightest sliver of it. Anything that her people might be able to cling to in order to escape the harsh reality of everything that had transpired thus.

“Ma’am,” came the timid voice once more. “The summit has already begun. You promised you would attend.”

There was a truth to the words spoken by the assistant. She had made the promise and it was one she truthfully intended to keep, however her attention was divided. The lives of those she represented meant the world to her. More so than any kind of political summit, but she’d given her word. And that, she simply could not take back. After all, Scariff had called this to order in the wake of this travesty that lashed itself out against the Abrion sector. And at that, the Rishi had been hit hard, but it was far from reeling in the effects of how this had devastated other systems. Reports from Vylmira were absolutely disheartening and she felt a sorrow swell within from those reports.

“Please send the reports to my office once you have them,” Kana said to the Security lead and head physician before turning upon heel to face her assistant.

“Yes, Quintala,” Kana finally replied to her assistant. “Is my office prepped?”

Hastily, the assistant nodded and hurried down the hallway toward the office of the Viceroy.

When Kana would turn the corner to her office, her eyes would fall upon the holographically projected forms of the delegates of the other systems in attendance to this Abrion Pact as it had come to be called now. She’d arrived at her office just in time to catch the last bit of Viceroy @Derek Dib’s last comments. She had no reply in that moment, and hadn’t even arrived at her desk to officially sign in herself before his comments would have been completed.

She thumbed a few commands on an interface at her desk so that she could project her holographic image to the appropriate locations for this gathering. “My apologies for the tardiness, my esteemed colleagues. Rishi’s situation at present is dire and my presence was demanded elsewhere.”

Her assistant approached her and handed her a holopad with a synopsis of items already being discussed.

“Thank you,” she said, nodding her head to the assistant and dismissing her simultaneously.
 

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Hester watched as the holo burst into a fresh life, taking the form of the Viceroy from Rishi. She spoke of her apologies; simple words for a complicated moment in time. Each of their focus' need be elsewhere but they had come together in the hope to better coordinate their relief effort.
It felt like Hester should speak. After all, it was she had invited them all to her new seat of Government. It was the first crisis to be housed within the majestic halls of the Administration and might just define their existence for some time to come.

"Esteemed Excellencies, I thank you for your words of promised support. The medical facilities of Kamino are second-to-none and the increased logistical support offered from Siskeen will provide a even better fighting chance for our collective peoples."

She paused. She thought. She spoke.

"We occupy an area of the Confederacy beset by opportunity and obligation. The opportunity for commerce and trade, of military might. No conventional force would dare attack this South-Easterly part of CIS space, with the combined might of the Garrison Worlds. The obligation we carry is truly heavy; our people need us, now more than ever before."

She was measured; she realized that the industry of war had been likely decimated if not hampered with this recent tragedy. Troops killed, infrastructure disrupted. Kamino and Vylmira could field impressive and vital military resources between them.

Wait till you see what Scarif is building.

"The Federal response time has been hampered. Conventional relief will take time to arrive, alongside the ability to move and muster the necessary resources. Collectively, it would seem, that we have at the space, manpower and will to support each other, in the meanwhile. Scarif has the space and the means to construct temporary accommodation for any seeking refuge at this time. The construction drones not dispatched to aid the rebuilding of the affected worlds would make light work of prefabricated shelter and administrative models, that I can assure you all."

She watched the faces of the assembled. She wasn't sure how the next part might go down. Too many egos? Too many bruises? Too many hatchets unable to be buried?

"I would propose the pooling of our resources into a streamlined command structure. Two, three, four different administrations working together from different angles and different means will hamper our effort, I can assure you. We need unity at this time. A temporary motion to what end? I don't know. But a motion to allow us to meet fully the needs of our citizens and the displaced Confederates in our charge. "

She sat back, her words spent. She wasn't sure what she was proposing. It certainly wasn't a power grab; it just made sense to her.


 
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P A C T

Tag: Hester Shedo Hester Shedo , Derek Dib Derek Dib , Kyyrk Kyyrk , Tenith Vilde, Teac Sadru, Kana Dhar, Rann Thress Rann Thress , Raven Thystle Raven Thystle

Overliege.

The responsibility was one that Agravain would have declined in years past. When the laws of mortality and Jedi applied in equal parts to his existence, his perspective was that of a public servant. One whose loyalties laid in all the Galaxy, and not solely within the hands of one world and one people. Yet, after the very meaning of life was snatched away, the Vampyr had a change of heart. Though he would always hunt for a cure, he now had eternity at his fingertips. And with it, the potential to do good.

It mattered not that the Darkness called to him and flowed through his veins. What mattered now was making the best of his immortality. And thus, fate would have it that his attention began on Ukio. He was merely passing through when the corruption was brought to his attention. On the surface, the agriworld was stunning. The people were "happy." The world enjoyed prosperity due to its position astronomically. By all accounts, everything was fine.

Yet, beneath the surface, the Overliege of Ukio was a corrupt individual. He hid his demons very well, so much so that the Southern Systems suspected nothing was afoul. He tore daughters from their families at the peak of adulthood, compensating the bereft kin with a smathering of credits and a threat of death. He abused. He stole. He battered. And his entire court allowed this. Agravain rose when so many stood still. With saber in hand, he put to rest the demon.

And in the wake of the execution, the natives bowed.

So it was that Agravain found a circlet placed upon his brow. So it was that the matters of state were brought to his attention. Namely, a summons to attend an communion of neighboring systems. A tragedy had recently befallen the Confederate worlds, devastating many within the region. Chief amongst these were Vylmira. Thus, albeit delayed due to the coronation, Agravain arrived on Scarif. "My esteemed fellows." he began, introducing himself to those present with a polite nod. "Please excuse my tardiness."

Fortune would have it that his datapad contained a summation of what had transpired thus far. He had been sure to keep up with the happenings as the turbolift brought him from his shuttle. "My name is Agravain Loth, Overliege and Viceroy of Ukio. I have come to pledge the support of my people in this endeavor. Ours is a world known for the cultivation of food - we will contribute as much as we can to support our neighbor."

With his intentions clear, he settled into a seat. It was better to keep the tardy introduction brief, after all.​

 

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P A C T


Voph exhaled for a moment, then nodded. "The lone soldier may die. But a unified front shall march forever." He sounded to be quoting something, though the nature of this message was unclear. Likely some expression from days long past. He turned to look at Hester as he continued speaking.​
"My pride would dictate that we find a way to solve this on our own. To be the strength that the Confederacy needs to see. But I'm afraid that's impossible at this moment in time. It would indeed be best for the survival of Vylmira's society that we accept help from those willing to provide it. And though we may not be able to repay in kind, Vylmirans do not forget."
The true meaning was subtle. Any bond the other worlds proposed? Vylmira would honor for life. Voph turned to address the rest of the gathered Viceroys. "It was never my intention to remain among you. When I first arrived within the borders of the Confederacy, it was the result of a simple search. I desired answers. Someone within your nation held them. Then the Mandalorians became the butchers of Eshan. The events of that conflict showed your nation in a different light than I had come to believe."
Voph fell silent for a long moment, collecting himself while deciding on how best to say what he thought. "I have served a number of masters. I have fought for a multitude of nations. But there was something about this Confederacy that made me stay. The family. The idea that many could become one. The unity. The strength of one is the strength of us all."
 
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VICEROY THYSTLE


Felacat had not been untouched by the devastation that had hit so many planets, but their losses had been minimal and yet she felt the grief of two Felacatians from behind her that had lost family members due to the event. Even through their personal losses, they remained loyal to the Viceroy and it was a trait that the vampiress valued above all else. Besides, it was safe to say that out of everyone that currently occupied the room, she only placed her trust within Nadia and Nala. Blood lines and factions were the perfect breeding grounds for traitors; but those who owed you by giving them a better life, never seemed to betray those who had given them a better life. Even when they suffered personal loss and had to focus upon the need of their Viceroy.

Chocolate eyes watched each member as they spoke and the woman regarded the Lord Commander quietly for a moment as he made mention that he might be one of the last of his species. Such a dramatic statement had made her rely upon the endless pool of patience that she had garnered over the years, so then she could refrain from making any sounds or movements that might not be at all helpful. In fact, the Viceroy of Felacat definitely did not feel as if she should be helpful for those whose loss was clearly evident within the room. Those who felt the emotional pain and witnessed the tragedies that had unraveled on the planets which called the Southern Systems within the Confederacy cloud, home. Yet she couldn’t help but wonder if she could play this to the advantage of her own people, people which had mostly managed to avoid major losses due to their natural tendencies to avoid allowing outsiders within their borders.

The Viceroy planned on changing many things and yet each situation had to play out just right.

Just as such thoughts played within her mind, the three thousand year old vampirika scented something which she had not in such a long time. A young vampirika. A vampirika that was lesser in nature and that was only because of how it had arrived within their now shared world of immortality. Such a gift was rarely given to those who was only expected to live less than one hundred years and there were many more who rarely survived such a gift; for not many managed to survive a sanguine vampirika’s bite, in fact most times it killed them and her gaze shifted to the man for a brief moment. It was a gaze which continued to observe him with the same emotionless facade that she maintained for all that attended the meeting.

Quietly, the Viceroy of Felacat listened and although everyone gathered were neighbouring planets of some kind, she couldn’t help but wonder about the strength that such a pact could maintain before it all fell through. A pact that she wanted to witness. From its birth upon this day and to the pact’s death. Something which she knew that she would get to see. ”No offense Lord Commander, but declaring that you may be one of the last of your species seems to be a little dramatic. Don’t you think?” The vampiress asked with a voice that would seem to caress those gathered, with silk. There was no point in feeling the emotions that were present within the room, for emotions would not serve a greater purpose. Whether her words were received well, she did not care, for she continued on. ”However, due to Felacat’s position, we have taken minimal losses from such a catastrophic event. Therefore, the citizens of Felacat are willing to offer refuge for any Vylmiran wishing to take shelter within our borders from the devastation of Vylmira; until such time when it is safe for them to do so and should they wish, to return to their own planet.”

Whether her offer was accepted or not, it did not matter. Why? Well, she had made the offer not out of pity but out of curiosity and although no one could see the curiousity that she had which laid under the surface of her expressionless face, she truly was interested in bearing witness to the birth of this pact. To see yet another landmark of history be born into the universe that surrounded them.
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