Dominion The Mines of Silence | THR Dominion of Kenari

[Inez]

​

Objective 1 - The Mines of Silence
C A V E R N S
Allies: Aiden Porte Roman Vossari Raylin Fall Verity Suun
Foes: Scour Torn Eskol

Blasterfire still tore through the air, hot streaks of red searing past as Inez pressed herself low, the scent of ozone and dust filling her lungs. Her gaze swept the chaos until it caught on a flash of movement behind the half-collapsed crate.

Roman.

He was hunched there, frozen stiff in that sort of stillness that wasn't born of discipline but the kind born of terror. His eyes were wide, unfocused, and the tremor in his hands told her everything. The quick-tongued redhead who couldn't shut up was gone. What remained was someone fighting ghosts.

A shadow moved behind him. A Twi'lek enforcer, blaster raised.

Inez didn't think. Two shots, quick and clean, cracked through the chamber. The first hit center mass. The second dropped him where he stood. The echo of the shots faded into the hiss of smoke.

"Hey! Hey!" she called as she closed the distance, dropping to one knee beside Roman. Her blaster swept once more across the dark, covering their flank before she turned her attention fully on him.

"Come on, Dream, I need you to focus," she urged in that sharp, commanding tone that had an edge of nobility to it. There was no time for fear. No time for care.

A gloved hand caught his chin and tilted his face toward her with quick, firm pressure.

"Roman." Inez snapped out, slicing through the noise. "Focus. Look at me."

She held his gaze, refusing to let him drift. "I need your help. We need to find Kalantha. You with me?"

 

[Verity Suun]

​

OBJECTIVE I
Equipment: Seraph Eques III Armor, Igneus Gladius IV Weapon
Allies: Aiden Porte | Roman Vossari | Raylin Fall | Inez
Hostiles: Scour | Torn Eskol

The heavy boots came to a stand still as Aiden signaled for the group to stop. Admiral Suun's weapon snapped parallel with the ground as Aiden's barrier appeared. Interesting technique. His concern for their safety went unheeded, but the opportunity to shift back into carbine mode was not missed. A scattergun had been useful in case they stumbled upon an enemy around a corner; with them being at distance it only made sense to adopt a more effective tactical posture.

Raylin and the Pathfinders found purpose in assaulting those ahead. Their loud cries were not unwelcome. As one that wore the Imperium's armor a flashy entrance to strike fear and Knowing into the hearts and minds of the enemy was a time-honored tradition. There was no need to cloak their approach in darkness. They had the stars themselves on their side.

Aiden took a side route as Roman and Inez pushed forward. The Knight Commander's attention swung from the Jedi's back to the direction of the doors he'd suggested a captive might be on the other side.

The thunder of the Admiral's carbine cannon filled the tunnels as she leveled the barrel at enemies that sought to overrun their team. Her steps were slow, but steady with little time to seek cover or nimbly evade every shot sent her way; if anything, she tanked the enemy fire while returning her own without hesitation. A few shots grazed weaker areas like the joints, but the numbing sensation was otherwise unremarkable. She'd endured worse.

A wet crack and pop followed the Admiral's armored fist being planted in the face of one of the hostiles. "On your feet, Soldier. Your comrades need you." She brought her arm down on that of another warrior's limb; the grasp of their weapon instantly lifted and it fell unsupported toward the ground. A swift kick to the midsection by the anvil of a boot caused them to lurch upward before they crumpled motionless to the ground. Verity couldn't begin to imagine what haunted Roman -- perhaps Inez was well aware -- but until they got on their feet she'd be their shield from the advance of hostile forces.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Objective II
Tags: Dominique Vexx

Aurelian glanced sidelong at her. Her words were silk wrapped around steel, and he'd always admired that about Dominique. She had a way of delivering a sharp edge while still making it sound like a compliment.

When he finally looked back at her, the grin was easy and sharp. "Between us, I've no great desire to excel at this whole Chancellor business. My council insists I show my face and say the right things about unity and resolve. I find it all rather dull." He followed up with a lazy, dismissive shrug. "I'm only here because they said I should be. It keeps them quiet."

He didn't mention the real reason he insisted on being stationed close to this cursed planet. That was a complication Dominique didn't need to know.

"If you manage to terraform this rock, claim the glory for Denon. Hang the banners, sell the story, name a crater after yourself for all I care." He waved a hand toward the desolate expanse, as if offering her the planet itself. "I've no interest in stealing your miracle."

Her suggestion about a defensive station drew a different sort of smile from him, smaller and shrewder. "But a listening post…" He tilted his head, studying her with amused respect. "Now that's clever. Denon gets to be the visionary, the Republic gets its watchtower, and we both pretend it was altruism. That's why I like keeping you around, Dominique."

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial drawl. "That, and you're far better company than Cassian Abrantes and his endless reports about pylons and power grids. Consider yourself a mercy."

Aurelian straightened again, brushing a layer of fine dust from his coat. "Very well. Proceed with your plan. Whatever Denon wants to accomplish here, you have my leave. Just make sure when the historians look back on this miserable rock, they call it your triumph, not mine."

​

 

[Roman Vossari]

​

LOCATION: Objective I
TAGS: Inez | Verity Suun

​

Roman's breath hitched, each sharp pull a struggle in the thick, choking air. The tunnel warped, the flashing red blaster lights blurring his vision. Then, a sharp, clear sound cut through the chaos.

"Roman." It was Inez's voice.

A gloved hand forced his chin up, bringing her face into focus through the haze. His eyes twitched, trying to grasp the movements, the words. Her tone was steady, commanding, real. Through that voice, the fight clawed its way back to him. Verity's carbine thundered behind them, each shot striking like punctuation in the air, a rhythm of survival. He blinked hard, once, then twice, watching the ghosts bleed out of his vision's edges.

"I..." The word caught. He swallowed, jaw tightening. "I'm fine." It came out hoarse and defensive, too fast. The lie hung between them, but he couldn't dwell on it. Not here, not now.

His eyes darted toward the fallen bodies near the crates, then to Verity, who stood like a wall of iron, holding the line. He couldn't stay here; he couldn't be seen like this. Not by them, not by anyone. Roman looked down at his legs, willing them to move. His fingers twitched, then his knee. The motion felt stiff, forced, but it was enough. He drew a breath tasting of dust and blood, pushing himself up from the crate.

"Need to find Kalantha," he murmured, almost to himself, his gaze fixed past Inez toward the far tunnel. His blaster came up with a shaky but deliberate grip. "For Aiden."

He didn't wait for her answer. He started moving, each step stiff but slowly finding a rhythm. Every instinct screamed at him to keep going, to stay ahead of the noise, ahead of the looks. The blaster fire behind him faded into a low hum. He just needed to move; anything was better than standing still.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Scour
​

The crimson bolt shot toward him, cutting through the smoke and dust. Aiden's saber came up in a flash of blue, catching the shot mid-flight and deflecting it into the wall beside him. The explosion of stone and sparks lit his face in a cold, brief flare.

He stepped forward through it, calm and measured, his silhouette steady against the haze. The Force swelled around him, quiet but deep the kind of still power that came from restraint, not rage. His gaze locked on the man before him the, the blade humming with unnatural energy, the unmistakable shroud of the Dark Side that hung over him like smoke.

"The Black Sun seem to be getting desperate." Aiden said evenly, his tone neither mocking nor afraid. "Or are you just another fool who thinks hate makes him strong?"

Aiden closed the distance. The Jedi's movements were measured not the wild flourishes of a duelist, but the controlled rhythm of someone who had fought too many times to waste motion. A series of precise and coordinated strikes launched against Scour, as Republic Soldiers and members of Shiraya's hope pushed past to clear whatever rabble was left. Down in these tunnels.

 

[Cassian Abrantes]

Forward Operating Base
Kenari-One

​

A comm tone pinged softly at his wrist. Cassian raised the device a message from orbit, patchy and half-corrupted. The text flickered but the source was clear: Kenari Recon Team – Status Unknown. Contact Lost.

His expression hardened. He keyed the nearest comm tower. "Lieutenant, alert the perimeter patrols. And have the landing pad crew prep a shuttle. I want a search team ready within the next fifteen minutes"

"Understood, sir."

The hum of the generators filled the silence.

He lowered his wrist, looking out toward the horizon beyond the perimeter, the endless, whispering desolate landscape that had already taken too much from too many.

"Kenari." he muttered under his breath.

Then he turned and strode toward the command tent, already getting into his gear and donning his armor to lead the search team out.

"You just couldn't stay quiet, could you?"

Thread Exit

​

 

[Isobel Serraris]

THE MINES OF SILENCE​

Location — Forward Operating Base, Kenari
Objective — Aid the members of the High Republic in setting up their base.
Tags — Taelen Velara / Open
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

Though there was the light spark of humility to be found in Taelen's words, the state of the outpost dared disagree with him. The place had livened up plenty from the holo-entries and while one may not yet call it lush, the efforts to improve were already made. With a handful of flowers, and driving away the pest that was the Black Sun, this planet may yet prosper once more. "Do not sell yourself short, Taelen, you must have done plenty to get this outpost to where it is now." She reassured, if only she had arrived earlier to aid the High Republic in their efforts. . .

There was little time to ponder on what ifs and what nots... As the mention of planting multiple millaflowers in one spot reached her, Isobel dropped a nervous laugh and shook her head lightly. Recalling her father's sharp warnings: "I would advise against it... Part of why the flower smells so pleasant is the fact it tranquilises your senses, and plant enough together in one place and this increases by tenfold." She tried to explain, having them sparsely around may yet benefit the base, but too many and it would pose a risk. One she preferred not to have on her conscience, and certainly not one she would explain to the ones in charge. With a sharp tug, she moved the red-and-blue flower back to the crate with supplies.

But she could not deny the small blush that reached her when he thanked her and her family. Something that she had never learned to control, unfortunately. "But, yes, we should find a place for them, before we crowd the entire place with medical supplies and what not." The Nabooan quipped in agreement and looked around the landing zone for an entrance to the operating base itself. Currying up the strength to carry the crate once more, before finally doing so.

 

[Sven Halestorm]

​

Objective: II - The New Frontier
Location: Kenari Wilderness
Tag: Isla Reingard


Sven listened without interrupting, his expression warm but thoughtful, as though he were less hearing her words and more weighing them gently in the space between them. When she spoke of greatness through strategic avoidance of responsibility, one eyebrow arched in amused resignation. “Ah,” he said lightly, “a prodigy of creative evasion. The archives will have to make room for you.” His tone was dry, but there was fondness in it, humor delivered like a teacher who refused to scold curiosity out of a student simply because it was inconvenient.

When her answer shifted, when real feeling threaded through her voice, his gaze returned to the valley below. He didn’t correct her or brush aside her instinct. Instead, he breathed in the quiet she had noticed. “You’re not imagining it,” he said softly. “The Force doesn’t only speak in serenity. It remembers loss, too. Worlds grieve for what they’ve endured just as people do. And sometimes…” He paused, letting the gold-filtered stillness answer for him. “Sometimes the young notice it first, before routine teaches them not to look.”

He folded his hands loosely behind his back, his posture relaxed but attentive, present in a way few adults ever were with a student outside a lesson hall. “Your teachers aren’t wrong that feeling can tangle you,” he said, gently clarifying rather than dismissing, “but neither are they entirely right. Emotion isn’t the enemy. It’s the current beneath awareness. What matters is whether you drown in it, or learn to ride it.” His eyes shifted to her, soft but steady. “You listened honestly. Most Padawans would have tried to explain the feeling instead of recognizing it.”

When she teased him about riddles, at last, his faint smile returned, familiar, patient, edged in wry good humor. “I don’t speak in riddles,” he replied, as though sharing a small conspiracy with her. “I simply leave room for the answers you haven’t found yet.” He gave a small tilt of his head toward the forest, a subtle invitation to walk again. “Besides, if I said everything outright, I’d rob you of discovery, and you’ve already declared yourself a future great explorer. It would be terribly discourteous of me to outpace you.”

He resumed their pace, the path narrowing into a corridor of soft light and swaying leaves. “Kenari isn’t waiting for something,” he continued gently, “it’s waiting for someone who listens long enough to understand why it waited at all.” He glanced sideways at her, not challenging, but quietly certain. “You’re closer than you think.”

Then, with just enough dryness to remind her he was still perfectly capable of a well-placed barb:
“And for the record, I only sound mysterious because you Mistook focus for brooding. I assure you, if I were truly brooding, you’d know. There would be far more sighing.”

Sigh​

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Objective II​

Aurelian was shrewd, but apparently not inconsolably ambitious. The Chancellorship did not interest him, was it? He found it dull? Well, politics at that level was rarely forgiving and could quickly lead to war between nations being too flippant or disrespectful to others. Undoubtedly not as much 'fun.'

Dominique listened attentively as Aurelian proclaimed no interest in 'stealing' her achievement. Her tongue was still, though there was a flash of curiosity. Why not? After all, she'd offered it to the him -- the Republic. Perhaps Aurelian didn't want them feeling too beholden to reciprocation? She'd yet to ply pressure for such so a concern of falling into that trap might be considered premature. Or appropriate, depending on your point of view.

The quip about her company was followed up with a personal aside, which kept Dominique from asking if her efforts to manipulate events to her advantage were the only reason he liked keeping her around. Though, to be called a mercy from dry reports wasn't exactly the sort of praise a woman wanted to hear either. The man was impossible to get closer to no matter what she seemed to offer. Though she hadn't sated his carnal desires, Dominique wasn't inclined to be that sort of influencer.

"It would seem I have no room to complain." Dominique laughed softly to herself. Well, she wouldn't complain if they credited her with such efforts. It wasn't exactly how she saw leaving an impression on the galaxy -- at this rate someone was liable to call her a saint -- but it was a circumstance easily turned to her advantage. Provided it worked. If they could hasten the redevelopment even further then there'd be no shortage in customers.

"Aurelian, if there is anything you should need, especially while all the eyes are upon you, you have only to ask." The Director smiled across at him. "I am always available to help my friends accomplish what they set out to do." Did Aurelian consider her a friend? What was a friend? She left that to him to decide, and trusted that despite whatever answer those questions returned he'd appreciate the offer extended toward him. In case he hadn't already been aware of it being on the table. Dominique would make the first move if it helped establish that relationship.

Aurelian Veruna​

 

[Scour]

OBJECTIVE I: Mines of Silence
ATTIRE: Oversized Armorweave leather trenchcoat, pants and tunic.
EQUIPMENT: In sig
LOCATION: Caverns - Kenari Blacksun smuggler den
ALLIES: Black Sun | Torn Eskol
FOES: Roman Vossari Raylin Fall Verity Suun Inez
DIRECT FOE: Aiden Porte

"The Black Sun seem to be getting desperate." Aiden said evenly, his tone neither mocking nor afraid. "Or are you just another fool who thinks hate makes him strong?"

Aiden closed the distance. The Jedi's movements were measured not the wild flourishes of a duelist, but the controlled rhythm of someone who had fought too many times to waste motion. A series of precise and coordinated strikes launched against Scour, as Republic Soldiers and members of Shiraya's hope pushed past to clear whatever rabble was left. Down in these tunnels.

" Hah! Such flattery." He wooed with a face of stone. "You reek of sanctimony, little monk." And he spoke with a voice gravel. Fancying a flourish, he eagerly welcomed his opponent. Arching a brown and barring his teeth into a genuine smile. A face only a mother could love. The captains scrutinizing gaze narrowed, taking in the scene and coming to know it. Again his acuity expanded.

Perception stretched into a thousand yard stare. With a blink the picture was committed to memory. The peacekeepers visage was disgustingly serene. Like a underwater spring and still waters ran deep. Then there was another pulse, Scour drank in the chaos occurring all around them. Consuming its essence and drank once more after. The metaphysical atmosphere shuddered and sinned. Giving birth to a overbearing and slick bloodlust. A toxin that sought to soil the Jedi's temperance. This was a mere appetizer.

For dinner, the two clashed. Blastsword thrumming a scream apon each impact with lightsabers touch. Beskar. The jedis sequence began and the captain responded back. Immediately. Feigning sloppy parries, batting strikes away and drawing back two steps. Again, they exchanged. But this time, Scour wanted desert. Again he baited and then shifted his body and pulled a fast one. His offhand darting into the view grasping two pale tan limbs and half covered in sleeves. Insignia was that of Black Sun.

" Lets change that..." He hissed.
A drop of blood fell to the floor.

With a crude swing Scour's vibroblade hummed a cry and dragged on. Spraying and flicking giblets of meat at Aiden, especially those eyes. Both of them could get bloodied, would his monk stain his robes though? It was psychological warfare on a visceral level. Blind with disgust. Distract from what he planned next...

 

[Inez]

​

Objective 1 - The Mines of Silence
C A V E R N S
Allies: Roman Vossari Raylin Fall Verity Suun
Foes: Torn Eskol

Roman met her gaze, and for a heartbeat Inez saw the man behind the panic. The tremor was gone, replaced by something steadier. She nodded once, brief approval, then turned to Verity.

"We're good."

The Admiral answered with another volley that shook the air. Inez didn't wait. She darted forward, boots silent over stone, Roman following close. They kept low, shadows moving between bursts of red light.

The sound changed as they advanced, less fighting, more laughter.

Harsh. Cruel.

The brunette saw them as they rounded the corner. Captain Scour's Ten Thousand Fists. Pirates with eyes like knives and grins that belonged to the deranged, their blasters and vibroswords gleaming in the half-light.

Inez exhaled quietly. "So much for subtlety."

Two of the pirates spotted them and opened fire. Inez dropped behind a broken table, motion quick and precise.

"Cover me," she ordered, already pulling a small device from her belt. She popped up, tossed the stun grenade, and turned away just as the flash went off. The air cracked with energy, and two bodies hit the floor twitching.

"Move," she said, pushing forward through the haze. Her blaster came up again, eyes scanning. Then she saw it, the blood.

It painted the floor in slick patterns, leading to a stack of crates. Chains. Limbs. A Gran's hand still clutched around a restraint. The smell of death was thick and metallic.

Her jaw tightened.

"Slave trade," she muttered low, "He's been running it through here."

Before Roman could reply, the ground vibrated beneath them. Something massive moved in the smoke ahead. Inez turned, blaster steady.

A Gen'dai stepped into view, towering and grotesque, armored in scavenged plates. The grin that split his face was wrong, too wide, too deliberate. Sadistic in the way those yellow eyes swept over her.

Inez stood her ground, her shield flickering around her with a soft hum, blue light tracing her silhouette. She tilted her chin up slightly, even as a rush of dread swept over her.

"Dream, take the ones with blasters," she told him in a calm, almost too quiet order. "The big one's mine."

The Gen'dai laughed, a deep sound that rolled through the cavern.

Inez's eyes narrowed, her stance tightening as she lifted her blaster.

"Laugh while you can."

The first shot cracked through the air.

 

[Taelen Velara]

Foward Operating Base
Kenari-One
Isobel Serraris

​

Taelen couldn't help the faint curve of a smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth as Isobel spoke, her words brushing against him with quiet reassurance. For a moment, the sound of construction and the sharp hiss of plasma cutters seemed to fade beneath the cadence of her voice. He looked out toward the half-finished spire rising over the horizon its durasteel frame gleaming beneath the hazy orange sun and let out a slow exhale.

"I did what I could." he said, voice low, steady. "But most of this came from the hands of those who don't have the Force to guide them. They build, they sweat, they stay long after the Jedi have moved on." He turned his gaze back toward her, eyes glinting faintly in the dim light. "Maybe humility's the only thing that fits here. The planet feels… like it's learning to breathe again. But it's still afraid to."

The breeze stirred again, carrying the faint sweetness of the Millaflowers she had brought. It clashed against the metallic tang of welders and engine fumes, creating a strange blend half life, half decay. Her warning about the flowers' effects made him pause, one brow lifting slightly in amusement.

"So too much beauty can be dangerous." he murmured with a chuckle. "Seems there's a lesson in that somewhere."


He crouched beside her as she replaced the flower into the crate, the motion slow, careful. When he spoke again, it was softer. "Still… I think even one of them planted here might make a difference. Not just to the air—but to the people. The clones, the workers, the ones breathing in all this dust and hoping it's worth it."

He straightened, his hands moving to help her lift the crate once more. The durasteel bit cold into his palms, but the gesture was grounding a reminder that rebuilding wasn't about heroics. It was about effort. About the quiet persistence that would one day turn the scars of Kenari into soil again.

As they walked, the hum of generators rose behind them, a steady rhythm against the backdrop of distant thunder rolling across the canyons. The Force stirred faintly around them still hollow, still uncertain, but carrying the barest hint of renewal.

Taelen looked once more toward the horizon, his expression thoughtful. "Maybe this planet isn't afraid." he said quietly, almost to himself. "Maybe it's just waiting for someone to remind it that it can still heal."

And with that, he kept walking beside Isobel, the crate of Millaflowers between them, their colors a fragile promise against the ruined world.

 

[Aiden Porte]

Scour
​

Aiden's expression didn't change not at first. The stench of iron and ozone filled the air, as blood splattered across the cavern floor. Scour's laughter echoed off the walls, jagged and feverish, but Aiden's gaze stayed locked, unflinching. The crimson droplets hit his armor and hissed faintly against the warmth of his saber's glow.

The Dark Side pressed against him, oily and suffocating, tasting the edges of his composure. He felt it creeping in the taunt, the revulsion, the urge to cut this man down and end the noise. For an instant, the Force around him rippled like a current against jagged rock.

Then Aiden exhaled.

The fury slipped past him, washing over and through. What lingered instead was stillness quiet, deliberate, dangerous.

Hope.

"You mistake restraint for weakness." he said, voice low and steady. "But all you've shown me is desperation."

He advanced slowly, saber held low, its glow painting the walls in calm blue fire. The Force pulsed heavy between them.

Aiden's light steady, immovable.

 

[Torn Eskol]

B L A C K - S U N - S Y N D I C A T E
MINES OF SILENCE

Aiden Porte l Roman Vossari l Inez l Sibylla Abrantes l Verity Suun
Direct to: Roman Vossari

VICIOUS KILLER TO WORTHY FOE
​

"Need to find Kalantha,"

A chuckle from the pitch blackness of the mines. Then, the glowing pair of eyes opened. In the distance, blaster fire. Illuminating him for just a moment, a small second.

Rabbit was dressed head to toe in gear, black. Hard to say what he was carrying. But nothing in both of his hands. In the dim light, barely illuminated tunnels were his hunting ground. He stared for a while, then his eyes closed. In the pitch-blackness nearly, he was able to move, they weren't able to see as well. He re-appeared into view about ten feet away.

"Tsk-tsk. Jedi, Jedi, Jedi. Come all this way, just to fail this close." A click of his pearly-white teeth, and an slight cocking of his head.

"Gotta hurt. Though, I thought Jedi were supposed to be braver-"

The sound of an unsheathing knife. Metal against leather. Almost two seconds of that sound- a long knife. The one that ran over his forearm, almost seven inches long. A brutal killer's instrument. Not something a soldier used. Not a warrior. A killer. He stood there for a moment, smirking. The dim red light was welcoming. He liked the dark. He moved better in it.

One hand went for the Jedi's weapon, aiming to seize it downward and away from him and the ability to shoot at him. The other hand did not cut, slash, or otherwise do anything fancy with the knife. The knife came barreling towards the Jedi's midsection, specifically, towards his ribcage. His lungs, his kidneys. No screaming. No fuss. That's what he was going for.

The Jedi had another team with him. More people. He had pretty much come out of sheer blackness. That was helpful. Beneficial. Too many eyes, too many places. Focused on this, focused on that. Torn just had to focus on one at a time, break them apart, slice them apart. He'd been watching them.

He went for the weak link first. That creature Scour was heading for the more senior of the Jedi first. Scour wanted the glory, the kill. Torn, however-

Just wanted them all dead. And he was going to try very hard to do so.

 

[Roman Vossari]

LOCATION: Objective I
TAGS: Inez | Verity Suun | Torn Eskol

​

Roman fell into step behind Inez, blaster in hand. It was the old, automatic habit of following someone who knew the threat and the territory. He'd parted with his lightsaber long ago, so any slicing that needed doing in this cavern would not be his job. His movements were small and entirely practical: shoot, move, and find cover quickly.

She pointed, and Roman targeted the blaster men immediately. He fired short, controlled bursts, aiming low just to pin them behind the crates. He didn't need a flashy kill; suppression was enough. One enemy went down with a sputter of sparks as Roman's rounds caught the stock of his rifle. Another ducked, firing wildly over his own shoulder. Roman shoved behind a crate, felt the stinging reverberation of a near miss sing off the metal, and immediately came up to engage a man trying to flank them. Roman knew he was clumsy compared to Inez's precision, but he was useful; distracting the shooters and making sure she and Verity could focus on the primary threat.

Then Torn slid out of the dark. He was a shadow with teeth, and Roman saw the flash of the long blade aimed directly at the Jedi. Reflex, honed by long-forgotten training, took over. Roman's body tightened, shoulders rolled, and he shoved off the crate to intercept the attack. He couldn't meet the steel with a saber. Instead, he swung his blaster as a blunt instrument, aiming only to knock the killer's knife-arm aside.

The knife came in hard and fast. Roman twisted into the arc, executing a desperate, practiced block. His forearm snapped violently under the blade's momentum. The metal howled, biting at the empty air before clipping the edge of a crate and sending sparks flying. They were frozen for a breath, inches apart. Roman saw Torn's grin, felt his own frantic heartbeat, and pushed hard, trying only to unbalance the killer and create the space Inez needed to finish the fight.

Everything felt sharp and immediate. The old anxiety dissolved, replaced by a cold, essential focus. He felt the Force now, a powerful thread just under his skin, lending him a fraction of a second's warning against the attacker. He forced himself to keep moving, establishing a desperate line between Torn and the others. The killer had come to end them; Roman answered with everything he had left.

 

[Isla Reingard]

Location: Objective I
Tags: Sven Halestorm

​

Isla rolled her eyes. "Oh, so mysterious and wise," she said, drawing out the words as she matched his stride. "Next you'll tell me the moss holds the secrets of the galaxy, if I just listen hard enough."

She shot him a sharp, sideways grin. Her sarcasm barely hid the flicker of admiration she felt. He wasn't like most Jedi she'd met. He offered quiet understanding, not lectures or detached superiority, and that silence somehow made his words land heavier than any formal lesson back at the Sanctuary.

"'Closer than I think,' huh?" she echoed, kicking at a root as they walked. "That sounds exactly like what a Jedi says when they don't want to give a real answer." She was teasing him, but she kept watching his face, trying to read his true expression. He had that calm about him again, that certainty that he meant what he said, and the uncomfortable feeling that he might be right.

The forest deepened around them. The glow of the vines painted her hands faint gold as she trailed her fingers through the air. "For what it's worth," she said after a moment, her voice dropping, "I like it here. It feels honest. Like the planet isn't trying to pretend everything's fine." She paused, thoughtful. "The Order could use a bit of that."

Then, as if realizing she'd gotten too serious, Isla quickly straightened and tossed him a crooked smile. "And if you ever start sighing dramatically, I'll know you've officially gone full 'Master Broody.' Maybe I'll even start writing a song about it. A tragic ballad for the wandering Jedi and the lazy Padawan."

She laughed, light and effortless, before hopping over a fallen log. "So tell me, oh focused one," she said, glancing back at him with a smirk, "where exactly are we going, or are we just letting the Force pick the trail today?"

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Objective II
Tags: Dominique Vexx

Aurelian's laugh came low and genuine, a sound that carried easily over the hum of machinery and the whispering wind. "Then I'm already in your debt," he said, turning that dangerous smile on her again. "You've spared me from another afternoon trapped with Cassian and his fondness for infrastructure updates. If I had to hear one more word about pylons, I'd have thrown myself into the nearest reactor."

He let the quip linger, but there was warmth beneath the humor, an unspoken acknowledgment of her offer, and a hint of gratitude. "I'll remember your generosity, Dominique. You've a talent for making yourself indispensable. The Republic could use more minds like yours, preferably ones that don't bore me senseless."

They reached the edge of the encampment, where the haze of radiation shimmered faintly against the dying light. Aurelian paused, taking it in with a kind of detached fascination. "This place will never be pretty," he said quietly, "but it might still mean something, if only to the right people." His gaze flicked back to her, eyes sharp again. "You'll make it mean something. I've no doubt of that."

As easily as the mood had deepened, he broke it with another grin, his usual mask slipping back into place. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a very tedious briefing to ignore and a council to feign agreement with." He gave her a faint, mocking bow. "Try not to make me look too useless before the day's out."

He turned on his heel, the wind catching his coat as he started back toward the landing pads. Over his shoulder, he added, almost as an afterthought, "And Dominique, thank you. Truly. You make this job almost bearable." He was gone then, his figure cutting a dark line against the pale horizon, leaving her with the promise and the challenge of making a dead world breathe again.

​

 

[Sven Halestorm]

​

Objective: II - The New Frontier
Location: Kenari Wilderness
Tag: Isla Reingard


Sven did not rise to the sarcasm; he merely wore it the way he wore the breeze: acknowledged, but never rattled by it. “The moss doesn’t hold the secrets of the galaxy,” he replied mildly, “only the patience to wait until someone finally listens.” His tone carried that familiar, serene dryness, the kind born not of superiority, but of a man who refused to hurry wisdom just because youth tugged at its sleeve.

“So you are listening, then,” he added after a beat, glancing sidelong at her as she walked. “You wouldn’t like it here if you weren’t. Most people are uncomfortable around honesty, whether it comes from a person or a planet. You’d be surprised how many Jedi work their entire lives to hear exactly what you just described without ever admitting it aloud.”

When she accused him of deliberately vague Jedi answers, his smile, small, restrained, deepened just barely at the corner. “A ‘real answer’ is only useful if the student is prepared to receive it,” he said. “And in my experience, Padawans don’t take kindly to being told they’ve stumbled onto something meaningful before they can make a joke about it first.” His eyes glinted with quiet humor. “You have your own pace of learning. I’m simply choosing not to stand in your way.”

They continued through the passage of swaying trees, the faint gold still dancing along her fingertips. “We do forget honesty, sometimes,” he admitted, voice gentler now. “In our pursuit of serenity, we grow fond of silence. But silence without truth is only another kind of noise.”[/color] His gaze drifted toward the canopy above them. “Kenari remembers what we occasionally misplace, feeling without fear of feeling.”

Then, with a calm exhale that sounded perilously close to amusement:
“If you do write that ballad, try to keep the meter respectable. I would hate to be immortalized in song only to suffer poor rhyme structure.”

He stepped over the same fallen log she had cleared, his boots landing softly on the moss beyond. “As for where we’re going…” He lifted his hand slightly, palm open to the unseen currents moving through the forest. “We’re letting the Force lead, yes, but not blindly. It nudges. We choose whether to follow.” His eyes met hers again, steady and quietly sure. “You wanted escape. I suspect what you found instead is direction.”

A pause, measured, intentional.
“And if we’re fortunate, also lunch.”

Let the Force Guide.​

 

[Inez]

​

Objective 1 - The Mines of Silence
C A V E R N S
Allies: Aiden Porte Roman Vossari Verity Suun
Foes: Torn Eskol

The Gen'dai didn't flinch -- not once.

Inez emptied her blaster until the pack ran dry, bolts hammering into armor and flesh alike, each one punching tiny flares of red light into the dark. It was as if he was merely absorbing them all. Some bolts ricocheted uselessly off the scavenged plates while others burned into muscle that only writhed with grotesque pleasure.

He was laughing, actually laughing.

"Of course you are," she hissed, trying to reload, but she barely got the new pack in before the massive hand came down.

The backhand caught her clean across the jaw, the shield flaring white to protect her from the bulk of the damage but not all of it, the impact cracking like thunder, sending her spinning through the air. Pain exploded in a white hot flare across her face before she hit a crate hard enough to splinter it, the air leaving her lungs in one strangled grunt.

Stars shot through her vision as it swam and metallic copper filled her mouth. She spat, dark red blood staining her chin.

"Blast," she heaved out in rough and dry spat, the word shaped somewhere between a curse and a breath.

Through the ringing in her ears she could hear him laughing still, heavy boots pounding the ground as he turned from her toward Verity Suun . Good. Let him chase the walking fortress.

Inez pushed up to her knees, head swimming, one hand trembling against the cracked floor as she forced herself upright. The world tilted once, twice, before she caught sight of a body slumped nearby. It was another dead piriate. A Duros.

"Well, you won't be needing that," she rasped out, crawling forward. Her palm closed around the heavy blaster in his limp grip. The weapon was old but functional. She thumbed the charge gauge and gave a grim little smile when it hummed to life.

A groan escaped her as she stood, every muscle protesting.

"Never going to hear the end of this," she muttered under her breath, the words almost drowned out by the chaos around her, already thinking of what this would do once they were back.

She glanced toward Roman and saw Torn closing in with a knife gleaming red in the cavern light. Immediately, her grip tightened on the stolen blaster.

"Not today," she growled, stepping forward through the haze, blood running down her chin, hazel eyes burning with the kind of calm that came right before something violent.

Whatever happened next, she'd make damn sure the next hit landed harder, as she began to send a volley of blaster fire at Torn's direction.

 

[Isobel Serraris]

THE MINES OF SILENCE​

Location — Forward Operating Base, Kenari
Objective — Aid the members of the High Republic in setting up their base.
Tags — Taelen Velara
Paraphernalia — Lightsabers

His words were correct, Kenari felt... silenced--as if it had been sheltered away ages and now was forced to re-enter civilisation. The Force, it was present, but tainted, as if the gardens held a handful of withered flowers in their midst. Not all, but enough to shape the landscape as ruined. But the collective efforts of the High Republic had done something already, and mayhap in time, all would blossom once more. "I understand... But still, you have aided in these efforts and that deserves praise too." The Nabooan smiled at her peer, trying to reassure him that he should just accept the compliment.

The lesson that too much beauty may prove harmful was not something that Isobel could fully align herself with. For even with the toxicity of the most vividly coloured flowers, it was necessary for them to survive and for the nature on a planet. One would need a bit of everything. . . So long as it was not used for harm--Such as syndicates had done in the past, using this gorgeous flower as a drug. The thought was revolting, and that was not an emotion she preferred to have in her heart.

As the pair walked, Isobel mostly moved the crate around, shifting the weight between her two hands. "Do you have ideas on where to plant them?" A foolish question, she hardly expected Taelen to know botany, but he knew his way around the outpost better than she did. Still, her gaze wandered over the barren canyons and the mostly metallic base the soldiers and mechanics had constructed... Hardly a place for life to flourish, but they would try to make it work, mayhap the Force could help... Hopefully.

"What about here?" Her eyes fell upon a spot at the centre of the base's hall--with proper air circulation and the sun casting its light through the windows, it had enough to both flourish and do its duty. She moved to set down the crate, only for it to slip from her grasp...