Junction The First Bastion Games - DIA/RNR/SO [ Empty hex/Iktotch/Kinyen

[Laphisto]

THE BASTION GAMES

A Tournament of Nations

The fortress world of Bastion stirred with a rare and thunderous energy. From the towering citadel walls to the deep plazas of Ravelin, the capital city, the entire world seemed to hold its breath. Today was no ordinary day. Today marked the beginning of something greater than war something built on discipline, tradition, and unity.

As the twin suns crested the horizon, ceremonial drums began to beat, their rhythm echoing through the stone avenues of the Path of Concord. This ancient thoroughfare, long reserved for imperial rites, now welcomed the first marchers of the Parade of Unity.

From the eastern gate of the city, the procession began.

Each participating faction emerged in turn, adorned in full regalia. Their banners led the way distinct colors and emblems raised high as a symbol of pride and identity. Some marched in tight formations with perfect synchronization, their armor gleaming beneath the morning light. Others walked with more relaxed form, but no less presence, their confidence woven into every step.

The gathered crowds roared with approval. Cheers, chants, and salutes rose from every tier of seating along the parade route. Floating holocams hovered overhead, streaming the ceremony to viewers across Bastion and beyond. Formation flyers streaked above in calculated patterns, releasing trails of smoke in the colors of the Bastion Games: black and gold.

The parade snaked through Ravalin’s central district, ascending gradually toward the looming silhouette of the Ravalin Colosseum. As each faction passed beneath the Gate of Triumvirs a monumental arch etched with scenes of ancient unity and sacrifice—they entered the arena floor and took their place in a wide, circular formation. Their banners were planted into the stone one by one, forming a ring of nations brought together not by allegiance, but by a shared desire to test their strength with honor.

Once all had arrived, a deep chime resonated across the colosseum. The noise of the crowd fell away, replaced by anticipation.

Then a single voice rang out broadcast through the arena, clear and commanding, carried by the speakers built into the walls. "People of Bastion. People of the stars. We welcome you to the Bastion Games." The crowd answered with a roar before quieting again as the speaker continued.

"This tournament is not born of conquest. It is forged from purpose. Here, war is suspended so that strength may be tested, and honor may rise. The Bastion Games are a proving ground. Not for destruction, but for excellence. For unity."

"In the days ahead, warriors will compete across ground and void. They will lead. They will endure. They will clash not as enemies, but as champions. Every event is a challenge. Every challenge, a lesson. And through these trials, one truth will be revealed: greatness is not seized. It is earned."

Above the arena, twin streaks of golden light shot into the sky. A burst of fireworks followed, erupting in black and gold spirals high above the stands. The banners on the arena floor caught the wind, rippling together in a moment of shared spectacle.

A final chime rang out across the colosseum. "Let the Games begin.” The Bastion Games had officially begun.

OBJECTIVES

---

Objective 1: Ground Division Preparation – Combatants on the Surface

Background:
The ground trials of the Bastion Games will pit warriors, strike teams, and battlefield commanders against complex, high-pressure scenarios. These include duels, infiltration runs, obstacle gauntlets, and simulated urban warfare—all built to expose weakness and reward tactical execution.

Each faction's ground forces now prepare for deployment. Whether through proud ceremonial march or calculated detachment, this is the moment before the first step into the arena.
[I=individual S= squad C=commander ]
Participants for this Catagory: Imperius Indomitus [C] Jairdain Jax Thio Kroeger [C] Diarch Rellik [I/S/C] Lily Decoria Briana Sal-Soren Rojuhr Pouihl [C] Lysander von Ascania Indra Quin Cerys Dyn Yasima Zyntra Merion Oreno

[technical glitch all without a label are individual]

Objective 2: Naval Division Preparation – Combatants Beyond Atmosphere

Background:
The naval trials will test starfighter reflexes, fleet coordination, tactical logistics, and command under pressure. From zero-g repair drills to squadron-based dogfights, these events reward control, clarity, and experience in the void. Naval personnel now gather some planetside, others aboard orbiting warships or in simulator bays. For them, the opening ceremony is a signal flare: the countdown has begun.

Participants for this Catagory: Imperius Indomitus [C] Jairdain Jax Thio Merion Oreno Ashin Cardé Varanin [C]

[technical glitch all without a label are individual]

Objective 3: Bring Your Own Objective (BYOO)

Background:
Not every competitor comes to fight. Not every spectator is passive. The Bastion Games are more than matches—they are an opportunity. For some, it’s a chance to scout enemies, test defenses, or execute a hidden agenda under the cover of sanctioned war games.

[ REMINDER FOR EVENTS AND RULES]

️ GROUND OPERATIONS DIVISION

---

• INDIVIDUAL EVENTS

For warriors who stand alone with strength and discipline

• Melee Duels – Blade, unarmed, and vibroweapon combat trials
• Sharpshooting Trials – Precision marksmanship under pressure
• Obstacle Gauntlet – Endurance, strength, and combat agility under full kit
• Breaching & Explosives Course – Timed demolitions, entry clears, and sabotage scoring

---

• SQUAD EVENTS

For fireteams and strike squads trained to act as one

• • • Urban Assault Simulation – Room-clearing, hostage rescue, and urban warfare scenarios
    • Infiltration Trial – Stealth-based sabotage and target retrieval
    • Control Zone Defense – Squad-based territory control under rotating objectives
    • Combat Search & Rescue – Simulated casualty extraction under fire

---

• COMMANDER EVENTS

For leaders who shape victory through strategy and command

• Live Tactical Wargames – Strategic command in adaptive battlefield simulations
• Doctrine Clash – Competing leadership philosophies in mirrored conditions
• Adaptive Command Relay – Dynamic command challenges with real-time shifts

---

NAVAL OPERATIONS DIVISION

---

• INDIVIDUAL EVENTS

For pilots, gunners, and engineers tested in the vacuum of space

• • • Starfighter Reflex Gauntlet – Dogfighting reflex trials against dynamic hazards
    • Turret Accuracy Trial – Starship gunner scoring during simulated evasive maneuvers
    • Zero-G Repair Run – Emergency damage control in a decompression sim

---

• SQUAD EVENTS

For starfighter squadrons, escort wings, and multi-role space teams

• • • Asset Defense Operation – Protect a vulnerable transport or station from simulated enemy assault; scored on survival and damage mitigation
    • Escort Breakout Drill – Defend allied craft through contested space while under timed pursuit
    • Formation Combat Trial – Coordinate strikes and evasive maneuvers across squad formations during wave-based attack drills
    • Target Suppression Run – Perform precision strikes on surface or spaceborne objectives under escort or flak fire
    • Dogfight Skirmish – Squadron vs squadron engagements with scoring based on survival, tactics, and target priority

---

• COMMANDER EVENTS

For those who command the stars from the bridge

• Fleet Command Simulation – Capital ship coordination across a dynamic battlefield
• Multi-Theater Response Drill – Manage simultaneous engagements across star sectors
• Logistics Endurance Exercise – Sustain a naval task force through shifting resource demands
• Joint Operations Command – Oversee mixed-unit actions in a large-scale combat scenario

---

SCORING & VICTORY POINTS

Placement	Points Awarded
1st Place	5 Victory Points
2nd Place	3 Victory Points
3rd Place	1 Victory Point
Bonus (Cohesion, Strategy, Creativity)	+1 VP (Judge Discretion)

• • • Every event contributes to the faction's overall score
    • The faction with the highest total is declared Victor of the Bastion Games
    • Victory points are earned per event by rolling a d20 on each action - note you can choose wither the roll affects your progress or not- team with the highest score at the end will earn 1st and so on dice rollign is mostly if you dont have a partner and want to accumulate victory points against NPC's but you may do so with other players should you wish [ mostly applies to commander and squad levels]

 

[Indra Quin]

Duelist
​

There was still blood in her memories.

Not the kind that stained armor or slicked the stone beneath broken bodies—but the kind that lingered, warm and pulsing, behind her eyes. Paschendale had become a phantom wound. She carried it not on her skin, but in her breath. Every inhale, a reminder of the moment Darth Anaethmous carved her down with impossible grace. Every exhale, a silent oath that she would not break again.

And yet she had lived.

Barely.

The others had called her survival a victory. A miracle. Her Lord had spoken no ill of her retreat. No scorn, no coldness in his eyes. But that was not what she feared.

What she feared… was disappointment unspoken.

Now the roar of the Bastion Games swallowed those thoughts—but could not silence them. Twin suns scorched overhead as Indra stood alone among the stone corridors that circled the lower barracks. She had arrived early. Too early. Purposefully so.

The clash of steel from sparring champions rang in the distance. Voices rose—some proud, some cruel. Indra ignored them all.

Her armor was immaculate, helmet slipping over her curls and sealing away her face like a final vow. Burnished and severe, freshly sealed from the forge, yet somehow still bearing the weight of that broken battlefield. She flexed her gauntleted hands, remembering how they had trembled when she’d first stood again after the duel.

They did not tremble now.

She would not break again. Not here. Not in his presence.

Diarch Rellik was here. On the field. A colossus in command, unshaken by failure, unmoved by excuses. She didn’t need his praise. She needed his approval. And if she could not earn it with words, she would carve it from the bones of her opponents.

The Bastion Games were not war.

But for Indra Quin… this was a battlefield all the same.

@OPEN
Imperius Indomitus Jairdain Jax Thio Kroeger Diarch Rellik Lily Decoria Briana Sal-Soren Lysander von Ascania Cerys Dyn Yasima Zyntra Merion Oreno​

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

SPECTATOR SPORT

Dressed in a stunning white-and-gold ensemble, Persephone sighed as she snagged a drink off a passing tray. A quick sip confirmed it was some type of Alderaanian wine, the fruity notes rolling over her tongue.

The teenager was not here for the Bastion Games. An interesting concept, she supposed. To her it just seemed a way for nations to get together and have a phallus measuring contest, yet what did she know. Perhaps it would be more diplomacy than expected, for those on the fields to see they were more similar than different.

Something told her lasting change as a result wouldn't occur.

Yet the wealthy, that included her, were going to use the Games as an excuse to throw a party. So far she had seen Senators, various ranks of nobility, socialites, various corporate types. These types of parties were more than what met the eye. They weren't a place to watch the Games, although she was certain some were currently betting in the corner.

No.

This was a place to make deals. To be seen. To make a move.

Persephone was here for two reasons. One, as the daughter of an extremely wealthy corporate family, these types of events were expected. A couple individuals had already approached her, introducing themselves in an attempt that perhaps she would pass the message along to her parents. Two, it was a place to see her friends. An event deemed acceptable by her parents. Some teenagers had slumber parties they could attend. Persephone had galas and charity balls.

TAGS : OPEN

 

[Bastien Sal-Soren]

BYOO - Noble Mixer​

The barge was absurd.

That was Bastien's first impression as he stepped aboard—an architectural marvel of black-lacquered plasteel and golden trim, suspended over the colosseum like a crown with no head to wear it. Pillowed benches, curved transparisteel balustrades, a drinks station that seemed plucked from a royal yacht. His mother had called it "cultural exposure." He called it spectacle diplomacy.

Still, he was here. Properly attired, as expected.

His suit was deep forest grey—so dark it read black under shadow, but shimmered green in the Bastion light. The cut was Nabooian tailored: long in the leg, tapered at the waist, high-collared. Pale metallic threading stitched sharp geometric shapes into the cuffs and lapels, subtle but unmistakably expensive. A matching sash lay across one shoulder like a half-forgotten honor.

Around him, nobles murmured. The Games were beginning.

He moved toward the edge of the viewing platform, eyes narrowing slightly as he spotted the duelists below—single figures arrayed across sand and stone. Their movements, even in warm-up, were precise. Powerful.

A flicker of honest admiration touched his voice as he leaned against the railing and said quietly,

"That's where the artistry is. Not the parade. Not the banners. It's in the moment blade meets blade—and neither side knows if they'll still be standing when it's over."

"Careful, you almost sounded sincere," came a low voice beside him.

Bastien glanced to his right. A young man had joined him—a pale-skinned noble in a polished navy waistcoat with a silver filigree starburst at his throat. House Yvaros, maybe. Or some equally ornamental lineage. The boy held a crystal flute with only a finger's worth of something gold and expensive inside.

"If you keep waxing poetic about melee combat, someone might mistake you for one of them."

"Perish the thought," Bastien replied, voice as smooth as silk drawn across stone. "Though it would be nice to be feared for something other than wit."

The other man laughed—sharp and genuine.

"You've got the smile for it, if not the scars."

"Then I suppose I'll have to watch more closely. Maybe I'll earn a metaphorical one."

Their exchange ended as easily as it had begun—like an old play performed by two actors who knew their cues. The noble drifted off, distracted by a passing tray of desserts.

Bastien let the silence return, just long enough to hear the roar of the crowd spike as a new combatant entered the arena. A familiar ripple of movement—the sweep of a dark silhouette, helm gleaming in the sun. He watched closely.

And then, from his periphery, a presence.

Poised. Radiant. Entirely intentional.

He turned his head slightly and found a young woman not far off, draped in white and gold with the kind of bored elegance that required discipline. He didn't recognize her—but something in the angle of her gaze suggested the same dance he'd just finished… only sharper.

"You have excellent timing," he offered mildly, letting his tone sit somewhere between courtesy and invitation. "They've just stopped pretending this isn't about blood."

Persephone Dashiell @OPEN​

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Naval>Commander>Multi-Theater Response Drill – Manage simultaneous engagements across star sectors
Location: Simulator
Representing: Sith Order

Since these were games with a limited time frame, not wholesale war with months to work with, this particular event took place in the most advanced and detailed simulation technology Ashin had ever witnessed. When she'd submitted her fleet of choice some time earlier — mid-ninth-century Naboo vessels with diverse capabilities, even a science ship — she'd managed her expectations. But the simulation had accurately reflected the ships in question, niche though they were, and she'd spent enough time practicing to make sure.

Not practicing on the actual map, though. The sector now revealed before her on the simulated bridge screens and viewports was almost totally unfamiliar, far away, and a surprise for both her and her opponent until right this second.

And it was weird. The map...was the Kathol.

Excitement rose in her, and alone on the simulated bridge apart from simulated crew, she didn't bother to hide it.

This was probably being recorded, of course, but let them get recordings of a graying Ashin Varanin in a set of generic Sith naval fatigues being excited about an experience totally new in her long, long life. So be it.

In this scenario, if she understood it right, the local powers — Kal'Shebbol, the Qektoth, the Pimbrellan League, Kathol Republic, and so forth — had only token patrol ships, not enough to seriously contest the two people running the war game, but enough to make sending off small isolated ships a hazardous prospect. One contestant would have a starting position deep in the Outback, anywhere between the Kathol Republic and Exocron, and the other would have a starting position in the Kathol Sector proper, anywhere between Kal'Shebbol and Pembric.

Her opponent, it seemed, would pick starting locations first. She was up against Imperius Indomitus who she knew by reputation; the former-imperial-thrones club was a small one.

She'd picked five kilometres' worth of fleet out of old habit, not particularly caring whether her opponent picked a fleet of similar size.

FLEET (4,953m total)

• Jamillia-class Cruiser (980m, flagship)
• Avatar-class Cruiser (1,100m)
• Jinn-class Cruiser (750m)
• Spinnaker-class Light Carrier (500m)
• Shambhala-class Science Vessel (220m)
• 6 x Handmaiden-class Escort Corvette (200m)
• 3 x H9 Patrol Corvette (51m)
• Admonition-class Transport (50m)

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

SPECTATOR SPORT

Persephone was deep into her current activity ; people watching. Gaze drifted to a crowd of gentlemen across the room. She couldn't read lips but it conversation was quite animated. All older. The teenager was counting how many times their head turned or the conversation slowed once a beautiful woman passed by. So far she was up to eleven times, impressive considering the night was so young.

Another sip of her wine. A mental note to stay on this side of the room for the rest of the evening.

"You have excellent timing," he offered mildly, letting his tone sit somewhere between courtesy and invitation. "They've just stopped pretending this isn't about blood."

Gaze carefully slid away from the group of older gentlemen to a much younger gentleman that broke the silence of her little world. Tall, dark haired, relatively handsome. Roughly her age, a bit older if she was guessing, but not by much. Judging by the outfit, Naboo or somewhere close by, close enough to influence the fashion choices. Son of a Senator, if she had to guess. It looked as if at any moment he may join the campaign trail.

"What gave you an illusion that this was anything other than a spectacle of gore?"

Tags : Bastien Sal-Soren | OPEN​

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Duelist​

She adjusted the clasp on her bracer for the third time in a minute.

It wasn’t nerves. Jedi didn’t get nervous. It was just… tactical awareness. Yes. A pre-fight mental calibration. That’s what she was calling it.

The roar of the Bastion crowd echoed faintly down the stone corridors leading to the arena floor. The parade had ended, the speeches had passed, and now came the part that mattered: the trials. The fights. The proving.

Cerys Dyn rolled her shoulders once, then again, her lekku giving the smallest flick of anticipation. The Nabooian sun filtering through the high archways kissed the dark metal of her training armor, freshly polished for the Games but already scuffed from drills. This was her moment. Not a performance, not a ceremony—just the clean, honest language of combat.

That was something she could speak fluently.

She glanced across the holding area and caught sight of Lily Decoria. A familiar steadiness just beyond reach. That was good. Comforting, in a way she’d never admit. Jedi didn’t have friends. But still, if she had to share the battlefield with someone... she was glad it was Lily.

A breath in.

A slow exhale.

Brandyn’s voice came unbidden, annoyingly clear. “You’re good, Cerys, but the Order needs more than skill with a blade. It needs people who can lead, who can inspire.”

She rolled her eyes at the memory. Inspire. She was here to show that she could lead with results. Let the others perfect their diplomacy—she’d perfect the part that counted when talks failed.

Maybe if she placed well, they’d stop sidelining her for “people person training.”

Maybe then, Brandyn would stop giving her that look.

The chime sounded—contestants called to formation.

She stood taller.

The Games had begun.

And she was ready.

Let them try and stop her.

| TAG: Open | EQUIPMENT: Dual sabers, inner pep talk, mild resentment |

​

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Objective: Ground Operations
"In the copper kiss of blood, life hums"​

Raised in combat. Challenged with pain. Taught to suffer until success has been made.

There were few things that made the Diarch feel alive; like the call of blood sport. The only downside to the events of the Bastion games was that Rellik would not feel as though his life was on the line.

Simulations, stun weapons, mercy.

He thought about how the event left no room for the growth his father spoke of. The bond that forged when he told Rellik and Diarch Reign to strike him down or die. That was a real test. This was games.

Yet... the Diarch did love spectacle.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Through Ravelin's central district he rode. Flowers and adoring citizens hallowing his name. Ascending gradually toward the looming silhouette of the Ravelin Colosseum until his Diarchy emblem adorned platform arrived. Riding in on a hover chariot the Diarch stood tall. Wrapped in a normal white tunic with a Black and Red lined sash formulating the finer pieces of his Toga.

At his arrival within the arena; he removed the top of his fabric to reveal his scar studded chest, letting the fabric dangle in a pseudo Kama or Kilt. With the raise of both arms into the sky - chants of "RIP AND TEAR" could be heard from the more fanatical members of Bastion society.

A small wave and smile met the chants and cheers as Rellik met sand with feet and stood awaiting commands from Laphisto who organized the games.

He has offered himself as Individual, Squad, and Commander. - Ready to prove the might and knowledge of the Diarchy in any land based scenario.

Tags: Imperius Indomitus Jairdain Jax Thio Kroeger Lily Decoria Briana Sal-Soren Rojuhr Pouihl Lysander von Ascania Cerys Dyn Yasima Zyntra Merion Oreno

 

[Bastien Sal-Soren]

"Ah. You're one of those—realist, I mean." The corners of his mouth tugged in quiet amusement, but his tone carried the unhurried confidence of someone who'd attended enough of these events to know where they usually ended. He let his gaze drift lazily back out over the arena, where the last of the banners were still being planted and formation flyers traced garish arcs across the sky in black and gold.

"You know, I was told this would be a cultural exchange. A demonstration of honor, discipline, shared values." He gestured, vaguely, toward the heavily choreographed spectacle below—triumphal music, precision salutes, firework spirals timed to the second. "And yet here we are—exchanging synchronized flag waving, smoke patterns, and questionable brass arrangements."

There was a moment spent in smirking, just long enough to sip from his glass.
"If this is diplomacy," he added lightly, "I fear what we're offering the barbarians is mostly smoke, pageantry, and an overuse of metallic trim."

Another flotilla of Diarchy nobles passed into view on a neighboring barge—dramatic in silhouette, their armor catching the sun at exaggerated angles. One, however, stood out for the wrong reasons. His outfit involved an asymmetrical cuirass of what looked suspiciously like dyed reptilian hide, with horned pauldrons and an enormous crimson half-cape that refused to stop billowing.

"I must admit," Bastien murmured with feigned admiration, "it takes a rare kind of conviction to wear something that looks like it was flayed off your opponent and then repurposed as a love letter to theater."

He didn't quite look at her again—but the tilt of his head, the dry amusement in his tone, suggested he expected she might be watching the same man.

"I'm sure there's a deeply symbolic reason behind the horns. And the scales. And the crimson. And the unnecessarily high collar. But alas..."
A lazy sigh, paired with a flick of his wrist.
"...I'm a simple creature. I find elegance less... carnivorous."

The crowd roared as another squadron completed its ceremonial lap. Still no fighting. Just spectacle. A show about a show, wrapped in tradition.

"Still," he mused, watching smoke curl through the sky, "I suppose it would be rude to complain. We did come for culture."

He paused again, considering a formal introduction but revelling in the anonymity of it all. He lifted his glass again, this time toward the sky.

"Next time I'll bring a paintbrush. Or a shield."

Persephone Dashiell​

 

[Kivah]

Objective 1: Duel
Tags: Cerys Dyn
Equipment: Udyr Biosuit, Sabers.

Kivah's tail flicked dismissively in the dusty breeze, she'd been bored by the pomp and circumstance of the occasion, she'd been spoiling for a good brawl like in her cage fighting days. Saber dueling had been her backup plan, one she'd taken after a lack of opponents in the other ring. Now she stood on the field against a Togrutan, trying not to underestimate her. Kivah figured she had a good thirty centimeters height and maybe a hundred kilo of solid Denik muscle over her. Speed, skill, or Force ability.... How would her opponent try to compensate?

The starting chines sounded and Kivah called her blades into her hands where she gripped them, they were comfortable, familiar, leather wraps from the Tuk'ata she'd killed warm in her hands as the blades snapped into existence with little of a lightsaber's signature snap-hiss.

Kivah darted forward, thrusting towards Cerys' chest, an attack she followed up with a slash of her off-hand saber that brought her hip around and let her snap a kick out. It was a very aggressive start to the duel. Kivah wanted to put the other woman on the defensive and keep her there, hopefully off balance. She was of course here to win, but Kivah also wanted to try herself against a Jedi for the first time, see how they were different from her fellow Kor'ethyr students and instructors.

 

[Annis Riyaré]

Annis Riyaré, Countess of Lopenthé, Senator of Naboo

Location: VIP Spectator Barge
Gear: Voidstone bracelet
Tag: Bastien Sal-Soren Persephone Dashiell

Spoiler: wearing

"And who ever said carnivores can't be elegant?" came a voice from behind the pair "Have you tried the tartare? Divine." she smiled and gave a very playful face. The Countess wouldn't have missed this party for the world, she was still a little anxious that the compact with the other major factions would hold, there was a lot on the line and many people, including her, could get hurt if this event descended into a military incident. But she had considered it and felt that the risk was low enough that she would attend, it would be a poor show if the world of Naboo didn't send its senatorial representative anyway.

She stepped forward and looked out the viewing gallery to see who was currently active. The opulent barge had many view screens with table service catering to the whims of the Galactic elite but it felt much more alive to come out and feel the bastion air and the scents that their champions faced.

"I have faith that this will not end in bloodshed but if it does I sincerely hope it is not one of ours that makes the first move, we are better than that." she let her political facade down just enough to show some patriotic smugness which was entirely acceptable given the event they were attending.

She checked her data pad and several wagers that she had placed, moving one of her tokens as one of the smaller national representatives withdrew after an unfortunate injury on the obstacle course. She had a fairly healthy wager on a couple of the nabooian contestants, she wasn't entirely sure how master Briana Sal-Soren might feel about her placing bets on the Jedi, but Lily Decoria looked like she was game for a wager.


​

 

[Thayze Montserrat]

|| THE BASTION GAMES ||
Head in the Clouds - Chapter 1

TAG: Annis Riyaré | Bastien Sal-Soren | Persephone Dashiell ​

BASTION

Bastion is as magnificent as what Thayze's parents' had often said. The two, especially his mother, were frequent visitors back then, before he was born. House Palerma was a prominent member of Imperial high society after all, her mother grew up around them just like he did with Naboo nobility. He is sure that this is the homecoming she has been waiting for this whole time, so long after she was exiled from Serenno almost two decades ago.

The two spent some times parading him around other VIPs, some are now integrated as nobilities of the Diarchy, others now residing in the Confederation's space or other various Imperial Remnants rump states. It was quite interesting for Thayze seeing them in flesh, listening how they talk about how their Iron Sun used to decorate the Great Hall of Bastion. Some even had daughters of his own age, he's making sure that he shares pleasantries and contacts with them. At worst they're useful resources, he thought to himself.

After rounds of charades, his parents proceeded to get invited to one of the private rooms, and he was left on his own. He started scanning the area for familiar faces, he knows that Naboo has sent some delegates, including his master. He instantly spotted the daughter of Judah Dashiell speaking with someone who resembles the Sal-Sorens. A cousin perhaps?

Thayze approached the two with a glass of wine in his hand, as another had just arrive before him. "It's unbelievable paired with this Pinot Noir, almost as good as home," he quipped, making his presence known to the three. "What a political disaster it would be. I imagine they all know how to play nice here, the host doesn’t look particularly lenient to such transgressions," he responded to the Countess. It would not be the first time a social event gets disrupted by unnecessary violence, but he trust the Diarchy's securities just a tad bit more than the previous ones. If they can suppress Imperial uprisings in their old capital, they should be able to keep the fortress world safe just for a week.​

 

[Imperius Indomitus]

W A R M A S T E R
LORD INDOMITUS
Through war, we bring order.
Through strength, we bring unity.

The Iron March
Order. Strength. Discipline.

Ashin Cardé Varanin | Kroeger | Diarch Rellik
Laphisto

THE MARCH​

Bastion | Ravelin | Colosseum

Some were born into war, others were bred for war. Many aspired to be professional in warfare, with even some believing it was their destiny. War was a choice for them, they choose the life of suffering over any other and embraced the sweat, blood and adrenaline, the death and destruction over a life in comfort and security. Being a soldier was not a choice for others, pressed into service or taking up arms to defend the comfort and security they valued so much. Imperius did not believe he was part of any group.

For all the despicable and useless philosophies the Sith's inbreeding spawned to the Galaxy, the concept that war is the natural state of the Galaxy was the most useful. There would never be peace, never a complete establishment of order, stability and security - however hard some deluded idealists and visionaries tried. It would never come to pass. The past, the presence and the future was only war. There was no light at the end of the tunnel, no respite or final victory.

Imperius did not believe in the application of soft power to achieve goals that had lasting results or effects. The force of violence, the application of violence to enforce order, structure and justice was the only way that those who believed and lived in their little castles above the clouds would be convinced otherwise. And convincing meant total and complete defeat.

To exercise war as a game was the playground of those who believed that honour existed between enemies. It was an opportunity to experience and learn what some contemporary schools of thought made of war and therefore helpful to witness. If there was something to learn - would be seen in time. If anything, it was an opportunity to further witness and inspect the strength of Bastion and of the Diarchy.

He was competing in two challenges at once, leading his ground unit personally while he allowed the naval simulation to be linked to an external processor of his power armor and internal HUD and controlling it through their rather impressive interface. He did not know if anyone competed in the same way, but he had the knowledge and awareness of doing so. He did not deal in pride, only knowledge and fighting a war on ground and in space, was not beyond his cognitive capabilities.

​

NAVAL COMBAT - MULTI THEATER RESPONSE DRILL
Ashin Cardé Varanin

Strike Force Aurelian

Ship Class​	Name​	Status​	Orders, Location​
Harrower-class Dreadnought (820m)	Valor [Flagship]​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Harrower-class Dreadnought (820m)	Retribution​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Terminus-class Destroyer (520m)	Ascendant Spear​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Terminus-class Destroyer (520m)	Sword of Bastion​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Terminus-class Destroyer (520m)	Rurik's Shield​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Terminus-class Destroyer (520m)	Indomitable​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Virilus-class Heavy Frigate (500m)	Iron Baron​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Xesh-class Fleet Tender, Elex (350m)	X-0613​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Rapax-class Corvette (200m)	Centurion​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Rapax-class Corvette (200m)	Pride of Orpheus​	[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​
Speculatores Recon Drones		[ 100 / 100 / 100 ]​

​

Imperius' brain scanned the data as it came in, definitely appreciating the complexity and scale the Diarchy's hosts came up with for the complex operation. It was in-depth and while it was a game of numbers, it was still against a sentient opponent. One he did not know personally or even from a distance, only the name was familiar as former ruler of another Sith Empire. There are too many fallen crowns that are missing heads, he thought.

The Minos Cluster was site of extensive campaigning in his youth and he was quite familiar with it, the Kathol sector South of it, less so, but good enough by proximity. He did not mind taking the offensive role, coming in from the Kal'Shebbol and seeking to establish domination throughout the sector by both subdueing the local authorities and the opponent.

It appeared to be a straight forward command, yet it had quite the few variables that were coming into play. Imperius chose a mixture of newer and older designs from his own production lines. Briefly considering to opt for an element of the Eternal Fleet, but its strategic value was rather limited, so it become a combined strike force he named after himself - Aurelian.

His simulation launched with the arrival of his fleet at Kal'Shebbol . . . .

​

GROUND COMBAT - LIVE TACTICAL WARGAMES
Diarch Rellik | Kroeger

Eternal Legion Cohort I, Aegis Invicta

While he reviewed the map of the Kathol Sector, he also moved along the front of his Cohort. The Eternal Legion was a project for the Empire, to supplement the Imperial Knights and Stormtroopers with anti-Force user capable soldiers that could not only meet them head-on, but negate their greatest asset. They had been rather dormant as guard of Iokath and his production facilities and bringing one of theirs to the wargames was too tempting to ignore.

They stood in perfect formation, their ranks symmetrical, their stance unmoved - only the standards of the Eternal Legion itself moved in the soft breeze that gently tucked at their heavy cloth. Let the others bring regiments, brigades - the First Cohort Aegis Invicta was their match and would prove not only through skill at arms but also speed and tactical acumen their worth again under Imperius' personal leadership. They had survived Exegol, they would prevail on Bastion.

 

[Cerys Dyn]

Cerys moved the moment the chime sounded.

The charge came fast, but she was faster.

The first thrust toward her chest met only air. She’d pivoted—not back, but just enough to the side to let the blade pass clean. No wasted motion. The off-hand slash came next, but she caught it with a swift parry, angling her saber to deflect and disengage rather than clash. The kick? It was partially absorbed on her forearm and partially allowed to pass by as she stepped back, letting the impact roll through her stance as she shifted low and to the outside, rotating into the narrow opening it created.

No quips. No roar of challenge. Just a breath through the nose—and return to form.

She snapped her twin sabers up and forward, initiating a tight, fluid sequence of jabs. One at the thigh. A mirrored strike at the bicep. Another low, then high—a darting rhythm meant not to wound, but to poke, to provoke, to test the Cathar’s reflexes and discipline.

One, two, three—reposition.

Four, five—angle shift.

Every move was deliberate. Efficient. Controlled.

She wasn’t here to trade blows. She was here to win.

| TAG: Kivah |

​

 

[Dominic Praxon]

Dominic moved through the gathering like a practiced current—never still, never too eager. Every bow was shallow but precise. Every smile carefully rationed. He spoke little at first, but listened much, and the Diarchy nobles—eager to impress, to court, to mark him—soon began to circle. They came in twos and threes, with fine sashes and cleaner boots than most of their footsoldiers had ever worn.

One bore a pin bearing the cracked sun of Bastion. Another spoke in perfect Trade Corellian, eager to flaunt it.

"Your presence honors the Games, Delegate. Naboo's eye for ceremony is well known, but your tongue for tact is something rarer still. You flatter even silence."

Dominic offered only the faintest quirk of a brow, and then:

"Silence is often the most reliable witness to pride. But I'm certain your words outmatch mine, Lord Vestor. You've had more time to rehearse them."

Laughter. One of those brittle aristocratic chuckles that had more precision than warmth.

Another noble joined—a younger woman with clipped speech and far too much perfume.

"What of the Five Veils? Rumors say you've walked the outer nodes. That your family's ships run deeper than most will admit. I have cousins invested in the third corridor—Rimos to Farstine."

"And my sister's husband is half-wagered on the Lorvine Basin. Credits and spice both."

Dominic's hands folded neatly behind his back.

"Then I pray his wager is wiser than his route. The Basin's no place for bulk or burden. What I might suggest—though only to friends of Naboo—is this: look not for what the charts reveal, but for what they omit. The old maps still carry secrets. Especially in the voids where nav beacons fail."

The woman tilted her head, considering. The older lord gave a pleased grunt, as if this wisdom confirmed something he'd already told himself in confidence.

"You speak as though you've charted them yourself."

"I only speak as though I've listened to those who have."

It was the kind of answer that satisfied no one—and yet left no one offended. A masterclass in staying present while never truly revealing his position.

The conversation swelled, then ebbed, and Dominic allowed himself to drift toward the perimeter—close enough to hear, far enough not to be obliged.

That was when he caught the last echo of Thayze Montserrat's voice. The comment about political disasters. The inference that violence still hung on the edges of possibility. Dominic's gaze slid toward him with a sliver of a smile.

"You wear poise like a family heirloom—polished, practiced. Though if I may, care is best taken with talk of fire… especially where others are still deciding whether there's smoke." His head dipped in courteous acknowledgment to the young woman who bore the air of one enduring a conversation, and to the young man who, by all appearances, was the architect of that endurance.

He moved on before a reply could shape itself, steps too graceful to be seen as avoidance.

Then—at last—he passed behind Senator Riyaré. Close enough to catch the scent of her perfume, subtle and pleasant.

He leaned in ever so slightly—not enough to suggest secrecy, but enough that only she would hear.

"My lady… I would think you wiser than to make verbal our fears while standing amid those who would, should your words take shape, become our enemies. Caution, when spoken, too often forgets its purpose."

He said no more.

When she turned, she would find him gone.

Dominic stood now by the tall arched viewport, watching the duels begin to unfold far below. His hands rested lightly on the carved banister, the glass gleaming gold in the sunlight.

He made no effort to rejoin the others.

And he stood just far enough from the Senator that she was under no obligation to acknowledge him.

Only to wonder, perhaps, whether he was there to watch the games…

…or to study the players.

Annis Riyaré Persephone Dashiell Bastien Sal-Soren Thayze Montserrat Diarch Reign​

 

[Kivah]

Objective 1: Duel
Tags: Cerys Dyn
Equipment: Udyr Biosuit, Sabers.

Kivah hadn't expected to connect so easily and hadn't overextended herself. The most fun had been the kick connecting, and she favored her opponent with a smile. Even stepping back to go with the momentum, Cerys should have learned just how powerful these casual blows were. But she'd shifted to the outside and counterattacked.

Her own parries were quick, batting away the first two jabs with her forward blade as a sway took her out of danger of the high stab as the Togruta repositioned. She did the same with the next, then went into a downward parry, walling off the attacking saber from that side of her body as Cerys shifted again and Kivah took a quick step in. She wanted to close into knife-fighting range where she could bully her opponent with her strength and size and would stay close to Cerys as she moved, always pressing in, always following. Her attacks changed too, from the more fencing-esqe thrusts and parries, to cutting attacks with the bottom half of her blades.

A lightsaber didn't need a lot of force behind it to cut, something Kivah took advantage of as she didn't draw back to attack, instead weaving one into the next as part of a barrage of non-stop aggression that blended close horizontal and forward slashes with quick jabs of her fists. Her eyes never focused, instead taking in all of Cerys' movements as she felt them, heard the scuff of her feet and her quiet breathing, even as Kivah inhaled through her mouth and exhaled through her nose in a relaxed rhythm.

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

SPECTATOR SPORT

"You think those different than you are barbarians? Perhaps they think the same about you."

Persephone took a sip of her wine, a little off-put by his assessment of those assembled. She enjoyed people watching. A fascinating past time in her opinion, especially as someone who enjoyed a great deal of fashion. How people dressed, how they presented themselves to the world always captured her attention. Did she always agree with those choices? No. Persephone was quick to call out a horrible fashion decision. Yet if someone had an excellent reason for their choices, she tended to be a bit less harsh.

She offered a small nod to the woman who joined them and the young man, another one who seemed roughly her age. The young man mentioned the wine being almost as good as home, which piqued her interest.

"Do your parents own a vineyard as well? Have I heard of it you think?"

Her parents enjoyed wine. So much that she got a 'pass' to enjoy a glass here and there. Much like today. Their estate had a massive vineyard where winemaking was a 'hobby', her parents selling extra bottles or gifting them to fellow corporate families. Persephone found it curious another would have a similar experience.

"I would suspect best behavior would be encouraged. I noticed a great deal of security. No one wants to be responsible for a intergalactic event. There's enough going on with the hyperlanes." Persephone paused,taking another sip. "Or it is the perfect time to strike, wipe out key military officials and dignitaries while the hyperlanes make it difficult to assemble a strong and quick response."

Bastien Sal-Soren | Annis Riyaré | Thayze Montserrat | Dominic Praxon​

 

[Yasima Zyntra]

Location: The duels
Gear: Yasima's Embrace, Knife made by father, standard gear
Tag: none

​

Yasima walked out in front of the crowds , suppressing the hiccups that had taunted her in the ready room, there was so many people watching. She saw Cerys Dyn preparing too and smiled at her before entering her own combat arena. She looked across at the other person preparing themselves, she had built all this up so much, it was just another person, stretching their muscles and making their own preparations for combat. She pulled out her saber and felt its warmth in her hand, feeling the light flowing strongly. Her emotions were not to be avoided, her fear kept her respectful, kept her sharp.

Tisshhhh

She extended her blade, its blue was tinted almost with an imperceptible green as it read her heart and responded accordingly. She felt light, fast and strong. Her hiccups were washed away with adrenaline as the referee gave the starting signal and she engaged.
​

 

[Diarch Reign]

Judging and Mingling
​

Location: Bastion Arena | Spectators/Judges Box
Tags: Laphisto @Open

---

The Diarch looked out at the spectacle approaching the Arena. He was not surprised to see the figure of Diarch Rellik foremost among the crowd. His brother had a way with spectacle that was sure to bring the noise.

The games had not been Reign’s idea, but Laphisto’s brain child. A contest pulled straight from his Mandolorian roots. War games for honor even among hated enemies.

The treaty the groups had signed was still in effect so outright conflict between the three major powers gathered here would be unlikely. And no one would be foolish enough to breach the accords on the Diarchy’s capital world.

Thus Reign was here. Asked to judge and to field the conversation of the politicians, even though he too wished to partake of violence.

He had to admit however, the ability to mingle with the delegates of Naboo greatly appealed to him. Enough so he made his way to a group of what appeared to be nobles and spoke

“Bastion welcomes you my friends, I am happy you all could make the cross galaxy trek to enjoy the sights that we have to offer”

He would now wait for any who wished to speak with one or two architects of the Diarchy.

 

[Rojuhr Pouihl]

​

Mission Entry:
.

Naboo Space
16th Day, 5th Month 902 ABY
Captain’s Office
RNV Alpha

It is not something that I planned on, but I was approved for personal leave to enter the “Bastion Games”. In fact, while they will not say so directly, I believe that it would have been suggested that I do. I am currently turning over Acting Command of Task Force Arestul to my first officer. A woman of loyalty and duty who will take care of the group well in my stead.

Several have asked why they will not be participating, that the Task Force will not be involved in the “games” in such close proximity to potentially hostile forces. I will not allow our ships to be potentially reconnoitered and potentially scanned for weaknesses. Those that had served in the 3rd Fleet in the Galactic Alliance know that this is not a personal decision for me. They will well explain those who do not understand, however I am not foreseeing any issues to arise.

“[Captain, incoming ships, four of them, one of them large!”]

[Don’t worry Commander, they are my ride. Thank you for the message. Please meet me in my office.]

It took her a few moments, but Commander Isup entered my office and I was able to make this official. “Reporting as ordered, sir.”

Commander… Allie... you knew this was happening.

She simply smiled. “I know. Just wanted to see if I could make you squirm. I’ll get you one day.”

Noted… Computer… transfer all command codes to Commander Alliena Isup, authorization Pouihl Alpha 237-a A few beeps, a few lights on the panel, and all finished.

There we go… Acting Captain... take care of the Task Force.
“Thank you sir, I will do you proud.”

You already do. With that, I headed out of the office and to a lift to head down to the launch bay for a shuttle. Luckily I was able to see “The Celestial City” and her escorts drop out of hyperspace. I missed that old girl. Clearly some of the crew who had served previously had as well.

Battlegroup for basis of the games:
Celestial City Supercarrier

• System AI - S.E.R.A.P.H.I.M. (Celestial City only)
• U.C.A.S. AI - A.R.C.A.N.E. (Celestial City Only)
• U.C.A.S. TENDER - A.E.R.I.S. (Docked in Ventral port of Celestial City)
• U.C.A.S. HEAVY PATROL - A.R.E.S. (3 Squadron)
• U.C.A.S. GUNSHIP - O.R.C.A. (2 Squadrons)
• U.C.A.S. RECONAISSANCE/STRIKE - A.R.T.I.M.U.S. (3 Squadrons)
• U.C.A.S. STARFIGHTER - A.D.A.M.A.N.T. (3 Squadrons)
• "Capital" A-wing (10 Squadrons)
• "AMF" Class Y-Wing Bomber Mk II (8 Squadrons)
  • 103rd Tactical Fighter Wing
  • "Archangel" Long Range Interceptor (3 Squadrons)
  • Elysian Stealth Strike Fighter.(3 Squadrons)
  • NC-1000 X-wing (10 squadrons)

2x DP2000 Torpedo Frigate
Loki Class Escort Cruiser