Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Faction The People v. Lysander von Asacania
S A N G U I N E
Astra smiled as her concession was well received. Had it been mildly surprising? Expected a little intimidation of the jury?
"I do, Your Honor. I call to task the Republic regarding the extraterritorial arrest made on my client. Jakku is not a member of the High Republic, nor a signatory to its Justice system. Even if they were to stretch in search of a claim as a result of Jedi being on the planet at the time, those Jedi were abandoning the planet and not there exercising any judicial power or holding any power to represent planetary government." Astra turned her head to look over at Verity. "On what legal authority are these proceedings held? Should other systems brace themselves for citizens to be abducted in search of 'justice?'"
Every scrap of evidence, every whisper of testimony was going to be scrutinized. Everyone expected this trial to have a foregone conclusion, but it was Astra's job to make it so arduous that they contemplate something less dramatic. After all, she rather liked working with Lysander; and while they could still talk with him in confinement it wouldn't be the same. For one, they wouldn't allow them to get blind drunk.
King of Naboo
Tags:
Sibylla Abrantes
A knowing look passed between them as Aurelian met her gaze. To him, the burden felt entirely like an obligation. Letting this trial proceed unchecked would make him a terrible friend to Cora and an even worse godfather to Lucy. Securing aid here was fully within his capabilities, yet playing those cards promised a harvest of new enemies while painting him as a hypocrite in the public eye. Having allies forced compromises; without them, his focus remained strictly tied to his own interests and his tight-set inner circle.
The soft pressure of her fingers anchored him, cutting through the edge of his underlying tension. Her presence in the gallery was the only thing keeping his sharp restlessness from boiling over entirely. Yet when her question hung between them, outlining the complex legal loops and skirted laws he was about to force proved surprisingly difficult to articulate.
"I..." he began, tracing her line of sight down toward the prisoner's table.
Realization hit him mid-sentence. Absorbed in his own calculations, he had briefly overlooked her personal connection to the scene playing out below. His expression softened, the scheming edge giving way to genuine focus.
"I am just concerned with how you are doing with all of this," he said, turning his head to catch her eyes. "With him down there, and with your other... friend causing trouble."
fit check for my napalm era
Tech Jedi Knight
MAKKO
Makko sat on the floor of the living room with Luciana settled between his legs. The holoprojector cast a muted glow across the far wall. The trial feed played without sound. He had muted when the camera had shown Cora and her sister.
A small paw appeared from under a cupboard door. Estella's sma paws scraped and shoved at the gap beneath it. Her mother - Lula - was asleep somewhere else in the house.
A treat had been left on the floor. Estella's nose would appear, snuffling loudly. The racyon didn't want to push the door open, but the treat was just beyond the reach of her arms.
Every frustrated huff and scrape pulled another bright, bubbling giggle from Luciana. She kicked her feet, delighted by the Racyon's determined efforts.
Makko managed a tired smile and rested his chin lightly against the soft dark curls at the top of his daughter’s head. The sound of her laughter was the only thing keeping the knot in his chest from tightening further.
Cora had already been through too much. Now she sat in a courtroom on Naboo, watching the Republic put her brother on trial.
Makko’s arms tightened just slightly around Luciana. He hated that he was not there. Hated the distance. Hated that all he could do was sit on the floor of their home right now.
He pressed a soft kiss to Luciana’s hair and kept his eyes on the silent holofeed.
S A N G U I N E
Astra's brows raised and her head rolled slightly as Verity argued jurisdiction. Obviously she wouldn't dare interrupt the other counsel's response to the judge, but that didn't mean she had to be a statue. A little color for the judge's benefit without acting as if starved for attention.
No doubt were this any other court Lysander would have had a time of it, but the Republic was one of those governments that liked to play by The Rules. So jurisdiction mattered. Leaning on the idea that their personnel carried some manner of extraterritorial jurisdiction wherever they went, or that possessions associated with everyone's favorite religion somehow entitled special consideration was something of a stretch.
"Your Honor, I object to the People's attempt at introducing propensity evidence beyond the scope of this hearing, unless wish to lay some charge related to the so-called 'incident' involving the Chandrilian diplomatic meeting." A minor objection before the judge deliberated at the bench. It seemed only prudent she make it known the Republic continued to paint her client in a light they'd yet to properly establish.
Once they began that review, of course, she remain silent. Astra turned to smile over at Lysander with a nod to reassure him things were on track. Well as could be expected.
When the Judge returned with a motion for recess for further deliberations, she was equally as curious as to the sudden remark concerning settlement discussions. Well, the court was busy. If they could reach some sort of amicable agreement it would spare everyone a great deal of effort. No show trial then? Tsk. Republics were no fun.
"I have no objection, Your Honor, to hearing out a proposal." Nor were they going to tacitly admit to any wrong-doing simply because they agreed to entertain the idea of a plea bargain. Now Astra was curious what Verity might hasten to propose seeing as how this hadn't been in the cards moments ago.
. . . priestess of ashla . . .
THE PEOPLE V LYSANDER VON ASCANIA
LOCATION — Naboo, Serraris Estate
TAGS — N/A, Single post
Life was but an elaborate puzzle that never quite reached its conclusion--its final piece. Each step taken, each word spoken, it left a mark, and these marks have found their ways to ache and scar her heart. Jakku was not how it should have been, her confrontation with
Arris Windrun
and
Acier Moonbound
inadvertently caused her to slip from the battle--to rid herself of the bond established with
Lysander von Ascania
. And now. . . it felt like a tether, present and yet whatever words she tried to bring across, went unanswered.The blue light from the holoscreen flickered with a constant answer, and yet Isobel found it difficult to come to terms with its truth. Captured. After she had abandoned him, after Jakku.
It gnawed at her night after night since she had fled from the assault on the Jedi Enclave, that ache--that accursed realisation that she could have stayed by his side, and she fled! Again. "Lysander. . ." Slipped past her lips, more breath than words, as she felt a familial touch tighten around her hand. While she had found her path back into the Republic, back into the arms of kin and the absence of this, such a fate had not quite marked the Ukatian yet. . . Yet. Even now, she was hopeful that some way the fates, or Ashla, would guide them toward one another.
Wherever and whenever that be.
In a desperate attempt, the Force branched out once more toward him, quivering with the silent acceptance that it would go unanswered: <<Lys, if you can hear this, remember what I said. . . Please remember. I am so sorry. . .>>
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fit check for my napalm era
Voice of Naboo
Upper Courtroom Observation Balcony
Interacting with:
Aurelian Veruna
Items: x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x
Sibylla caught the hesitation in Aurelian's reply, watching him as he slowly turned to look at her, face slightly upturned even as the dark locks of his curls tumbled in charming disarray over his brow.
Normally he'd look up at her with a mischievous grin and a glint in his amber eyes. Instead, he had the sort of pensive tension he rarely showed, evident in the careful manner he chose his words when there were considerably more thoughts behind them than he intended to share. Something was going on, and she grew more concerned.
However, his query regarding his concern for her -- or, more aptly, his redirect -- made the young Abrantes pause.
How am I doing?
The delicate golden filigree of her headdress gave a faint jingle as Sibylla turned back toward the proceedings below.
"I am at odds," she finally admitted quietly after a moment, her thumb absently brushing across his knuckles beneath the concealment of her sleeve, unable to help the way her mind raced at it all of how this would impact everything and any trials of a similar nature in the future.
"I understand the responsibility of my position as much as that of the Republic. I know that both have directly impacted civilians and innocent parties in the Tapani Sector and the Core Worlds -- not just in the destruction, but in the cost of lives as well. There is no excuse for either."
Rosy lips pursed faintly as arguments of jurisdiction, culpability, punishment, and reparations traded places below.
"Acier entered the Covenant willingly to gather intelligence. Perhaps the Republic's knowledge of that might have afforded him some consideration, but it does not erase what happened to him there." He had also met Lysander there, Sibylla thought to herself as her brows furrowed delicately at the thought. A slight purse of her lips followed at the memory of the events of the Trinity only made her voice drop another octave as she added quietly. "Nor what he became capable of doing afterward."
The curve of her shoulders rose slightly as she drew another slow breath, trying to process on one hand while verbalizing her thoughts honestly on the other.
"The Force only seems to make everything more complicated. Grief. Anger. Fear. Desire. Give any one of those enough power and..." Sibylla swallowed. "I have seen what even a Goddess can do to a world when consequence becomes secondary to emotion."
Those kohl-lined hazel eyes found Lysander below.
"Lysander went searching for something he believed the Jedi could not give him. Knowledge. Perhaps belonging. I saw enough of him afterward to know that whatever he found began feeding something in him." Her expression softened. "Cora suffered far more for his choices than I ever did, but if Lysander truly wishes to make things right..."
Below, Ms. Sadow responded to the Senator's inquiry.
"I cannot help wondering what that means for Acier." That admission weighed heavier on her than Sibylla expected. Then her jaw tightened. She had heard the news of Ace breaking out of the detention cell, and that information had ultimately frustrated and angered her to no end.
"...and then the absolute fool broke out of detention with Knight Reingard. What was he thinking?!" There was considerably more emotion to that hiss of a whisper.
"It only makes everything worse. If he had remained, if he had allowed the Republic to establish that he had been providing intelligence, perhaps there might have been some leniency." The frustration and disappointment, as much as the underlying baffled anger, was clear as she was honestly at odds and uncertain on what would happen next. "But now he is a fugitive again... "
The ramifications only made her fingers tighten around Aurelian's hand without thought. She did not know that the answer was sitting directly beside her or how Aurelian's decision would set in motion a turmoil of events that would test them personally and professionally.
"All rise." The ballif's order boomed across the chamber as sentients rose to their feet. Sibylla drew a sharp breath and rose with the rest of the gallery, doing her best to smooth her expression back into the serene mask expected of the Voice of Naboo. Below, Lysander and his counsel were escorted away while the courtroom dissolved into murmurs around them.
Persephone Dashiell
It's Called Fashion Sweetie
Persephone grumbled a little bit about rising but she knew it was for the judge, not the war criminal in question. From their vantage point she could see they went to a side chamber. Negotiations? It would have been wiser to do this before dragging everyone in to court to view this spectacle but perhaps that had been the plan all along.
Sitting back down, gaze flicked to
Mauve du Vain
,looking the Zeltron over. They could speak now and low murmurs were filling the courtroom. Reporters were drifting out to give a report before court would be in session again."You look....morose." A small pause. "You want leave this circus and get some drinks? Maybe help you get over this snarky-sad attitude you're in?"
Unwritten Verse
Everything slowed for him. Astra's voice became distant arguing the illegitimacy of his arrest. Part of him agreed the Republic had no right to binders. Twin emeralds lowered to study those restraints at his wrists. Pressure built behind his eyes as the Silver Dragon's words began to register, familiar like a lesson remembered from a mentor's voice. For a stretched moment he yearned to agree, to step back through the Black Wall, to the home he'd known in recent years.
The dampeners severed their telepathy, but they hadn't managed to extinguish everything. First came a vision. An open palm resting beside Nightstar upon scorched earth. Then a doorway. Behind lay darkness and the Order's banners; ahead, not light.. but a long road winding into a dawn without color. He saw himself treading that path. Next came water flowing over his hands, stained dark with blood. The water thinned; the red welled up anew. He kept washing, and washing. There was no shape for the apology he felt. It surfaced instead as memory. A child kneeling beside something broken, gathering every sliver, terrified nothing would ever fit again.
Grief swelled fiercely before he turned, scanning the gallery until he spotted his sister. Shame and humiliation burned in his cheeks. Anger and defiance drained away; her injuries stood as damning proof against the lie he'd been telling himself for years. The one, that even as a Sith, he'd acted to protect his family. Now he saw the harsher truth: he'd failed her too.
His tongue pressed against the back of his teeth and fingers clenched. The cuffs let out a soft beep, snapping him out of the spiral.
Doubt was foreign, but a tiny spark ignited. Lysander clung to the hope that she was here out of love, not to witness his downfall. Even if he walked free, he knew countless versions of her were lost along the way. He resented that her path as a Jedi linked her to his enemies, and also that his choices had poisoned their bond.
Beside her sat Lady Ardemark, as he knew her. The one partially responsible for his captivity. Now she was the one offering comfort to his sister. The irony stung.
When the judge mentioned a settlement, Lysander's head whipped toward Astra. He exhaled slowly, the restraints heavy as he was led from the courtroom to the conference room. Others set the pace; he trailed at Astra's side, trapped between a prisoner and negotiator.
Facing Verity, his shoulders rose in a shrug. "I've enjoyed far comfier accommodations. You should taste the food." He glanced down at the prison tunic, then back up. "I recall you being far more courteous in your letters." A polite euphemism.
Terms began filling the air as Lysander slid into a chair. Imprisoned until nearly forty? That was longer than the life he'd already lived. His mind raced. Luciana would reach adulthood. Then came Naniti, building a future he might only witness through monitored messages. That was, if he was fortunate enough to receive them. More friends would die; the galaxy would simply spin on without him. Through that internal devastation, he forced a smile at Verity.
Diplomatic aplomb met the truth of his legal ignorance. He turned back to Astra. "How much of this am I allowed to answer?"
The Empress in the gallery would torch this building for his past, the one beside him was fighting for his future, and the Druckenwell senator simply put a price on it all. His brow knotted at her phrasing.. so, the stubborn negotiator in him pressed on. "Publicly denounce atrocities, or publicly denounce the Sith? Those aren't the same. What exactly are you asking me to admit to?" The digital tracker he could tolerate. Or so he thought. Who decided which associations were acceptable? Would he need permission to see someone?
For all the coldness in his gaze, something beneath it fractured. For the second time lately, the feeling had a name. Fear. "I can walk away from what the Covenant is. I can't walk away from everyone it gave me."
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S A N G U I N E
Astra maintained her smile, but did not feel like crowing in Verity's face about the Judge siding with the Dark Corpo in cautioning against any 'brazen' acts. These were hardly victories, and they were but dust before the mountain that was the heart of the case at hand. Even these pittances had to be waged and preferably won in an effort to establish momentum. One could never tell what trivial detail might turn out to be the lynch pin in a case. Especially when a jury was involved.
When the bailiff cried out, Astra made certain Lysander rose to his feet along with her. Matters of court commanded her attention, but she hadn't missed the man's countenance flicker here or there. The binders might hamper his abilities, but Astra was in full control of her own. Would she need to counsel him on maintaining his poker face as the trial stretched on? Any expression of sympathy could reflect against them. Why did he feel guilt if not guilty, the jury might think? Couldn't have that.
With the Judge departed, Astra turned to follow the security cordon made for them to safely reach the conference room.
Once they entered the room, Astra took up position on the other side of the conference table from where Verity's bag had been set. A discrete visual check made sure Lysander had a seat beside her and out of Verity's physical clutches. Not that the woman was likely to accost him. Optics.
A look of patient suffering extended to a raise of Astra's fine, dark brows as Verity needled her client. Really, she led with complimenting how well incarcerated 'suited' him? Had to get a little of the animosity out in a ever-so-just professional manner?
Verity's declaration Lysander wouldn't get off free was not surprising. That would hardly be a 'deal;' more of an acknowledgement the Republic had no business getting involved in the first place. Quite embarrassing, really. Obviously that would be part of the deal, however -- saving face.
"As your attorney, I advise you to say nothing. Barring that, don't rise to her barbs," Astra replied to Lysander's question. The man did enjoy a good verbal spar. Unfortunately, such a habit rarely did a defendant any good in court. Truth? They weren't there for the truth. Truth was complicated. Messy. Ambiguous. They were there for a story that made a Jury or a Prosecutor feel good about themselves.
"If, Miss Stuyveris. A sweet deal if he got any sentence at all. The real question is just how certain you are any of the charges stick. How many do you think I could have removed before jury selection? Before closing statements? If we're talking brass tacks, let's discuss what it is you truly believe you have on my client."
Then Astra drew back her chair and settled into it. She didn't glance toward Lysander when he spoke of what he might be willing to do as a show of... what? Contrition? "Just to be clear, my client isn't admitting to participating in any of these so-called atrocities committed by the Sith." Just to be clear.
King of Naboo
Tags:
Sibylla Abrantes
|
Lysander von Ascania
|
Verity Stuyveris
|
Astra Sadow
Listening in silence, Aurelian squeezed her hand, letting the steady pressure anchor her through the flood of raw admissions. "Probably trying to avoid ending up in a cage like this one," Aurelian said in response to what he was thinking.
Knowledge of Acier's current hideout sat heavily on his mind. His network kept precise tabs on the fugitive and Knight Reingard, but sharing those coordinates now would only prompt her to act recklessly. She was safer remaining in the dark until this immediate crisis resolved.
"One problem at a time," he added as the bailiff's command brought the room to its feet.
Aurelian stood, smoothing the front of his dark tunic. "Now," he said, turning to her with a subtle tilt of his head, "would you accompany me to this conference room? I believe I have to make something work here."
Stepping out of the gallery, he moved with purpose, sweeping down the grand marble corridors toward the judicial wing. Sibylla remained at his side as he brushed past the posted guards outside Conference Room A, pushing the heavy door open without hesitation.
Inside, the room fell quiet at their intrusion. Aurelian let a broad, confident smile touch his lips, his gaze flicking from Verity over to Lysander at the head of the table.
"Mind if we join these plea conversations?" Aurelian asked smoothly, stepping fully into the room. "There might be a way we can all help each other."
ＰＡＴＲＩＭＯＮＩＵＭ
ʟɪʟ' ᴏʟᴇ ᴍᴇ
Arms crossed, eyes narrowed, and visibly unamused, Ala watched with increasing degrees of concern. Proceedings were proceeding...poorly.
Actions. Consequences. And convenient plea deals that let monsters get away with monstering. If Lysander von Ascania was not imprisoned for life, then Ala truly feared for the future of the Republic.
She had staked her position in the worsening schism on the fact that the Republic was the safest place for Jedi to rebuild and train a new generation. This was still true. But decisions such as that which was playing outdid not bode well.
Perhaps the Vanguard were right on somethings. Excepting the illegal actions...of course.
| @Just here |
Administrator
LOCATION: THE HIGH REPUBLIC HALL OF JUSTICE [Courtroom]
TAG:
Verity Stuyveris
|
Astra Sadow
|
Lysander von Ascania
|
Corazona von Ascania
No one noticed her. She was...Just one more face in the crowd.
_____
Rising water filled her mind, deep and dark, enough that the courtroom felt less real than the possibility of drowning in the open air. Clear water turned red, and it poured her out of nothingness to place her before the visage of Lysander that kept trying to scrub his hands clean. She was wearing the same ivory robes that she had on in the real world, but her moonlit hair was slicked back with rivulets of water running down pale skin.Srina watched his actions with a stillness that belied the sudden ache beneath her breastbone. The water ran clear, briefly, before it turned crimson and spoiled it all over again. His hands seemed to move with increasing urgency beneath the stream, seeking cleanliness, where none could be found. As if enough water might undo what had been done.
As if remorse could reverse time.
The vision shifted, and the Sith Lord disappeared from her sight. The restraints that the High Republic had him in hadn’t failed. They hadn’t done anything wrong in that regard; though, they might not have considered someone with her aptitude would sit freely in their halls. Palpatine had hidden in plain sight for decades, without a care, and the Sith Empress was certain that she could do the same. At least…Until her guise slipped away and the truth came out.
And it would, come out.
What was once an adult version of Lysander had become a youngling with trembling hands. Gathering pieces of silver, one, then another. Frightened somehow by the growing certainty that no matter how carefully he collected them—Nothing would ever be the same again.
Her eyes were gold in his mind, not Echani silver, but they lowered all the same. Breathless and haunting, while understanding slowly coiled around her spine.
<<Oh, Lysander.>>
Her presence did not tear through the dampening field or batter itself bloody against the invisible cage they had constructed around her. It was more subtle than that, and the impression of her moved through the spaces his mind had opened to her. Srina gathered all that she was around d him like the first cold mist before winter, likely, distracting him from the trial…But she didn’t think about it. It didn’t need to happen at all.
She rewound the vision, starting it over, and the stream of water slowed to a stop. The alabaster-skinned woman folded small fingers over his hands and drew them away from a stream that no longer existed. The crimson remained for a moment longer, we and accusing, before her thumb moved over his palm.
Clean and dry. No water, no blood.
She did not whisper that he was innocent or offer lies…Merely, truth. His hands would never be clean no matter how his guilt swallowed him whole, something she knew well. The scene moved forward, and she lowered herself before the child and covered his hands again before he could reach for more broken shards. How had his faith become so shaken?
<<Enough…>>
Some things could not be repaired by bleeding over the pieces. Her fingers tightened, not enough to cause pain, but enough to stop him. The road remained somewhere beyond them, and it led somewhere neither of them could see. She knew what it represented. Srina could feel uncertainty winding through him, the unbearable question, and her eyes slowly sharpened.
She would not leave him to rot in this hateful place while he convinced himself that “suffering” was the same as becoming “better” in the eyes of these…Good, kind people.
<<…Let me take you home…>>
There were no assurances that he was decent or propaganda.
No demand that he remain what he had been…Just the simple, clear repetition of her initial statement that would echo in his chest as if it had been made hollow. She had promised to come when he called…She would not leave her child in this death trap vying for absolution that would never come.
_____
Srina blinked and noted that several more bodies filled the space while their wordless conversation took place. The courtroom settled while the prosecutors did their song and dance and accomplished nothing. Srina drew one slow breath through her nose while silver eyes refocused fully upon the proceedings. Nothing outwardly betrayed where she had been…
But her hand tightened on the armrest of her chair.
The runes in her clothing that clouded her presence trembled, the lock straining, but her patience held even if it was only momentary. She had already begun to pick targets out of the crowd. Who to kill. Who to spare—Knowing that Lysander had always had one foot in both worlds even while committing atrocities that would make them shiver and shake in the dark of night. She would give those who opposed her a good death, swift, and without unnecessary pain. There was no hatred in her heart…
They were just in the way.
<<…I will take you home…>>
Lux in Tenebris
“Andromeda, do you sense it?”
Outside the courtroom, Jedi Master William Thule stood wearing dark robes and a deep frown. He looked to Knight Demir.
“A disturbance in the Force…”
What it was he could not say exactly. But he had felt it.
His hand drifted to his lightsaber hilt.
How long had it been since he’d struck down a dark sider? Did he still have the strength to do what was necessary?
“Something’s wrong. Alert the Council.”
Andromeda Demir
Figlia d' 'a Tempesta
Lysander von Ascania
Srina Talon
Sophelia Ardemark
William Thule
Ala Quin
Cora's chest lifted with a sharp breath when Lysander's eyes found her. Something about his glance was startling, even though she'd sought it in the first place.
Slowly, the courtroom faded to ambient noise around her. There was only Lysander. That bright smile from their fishing adventure on Naboo. The way the wind ruffled blonde locks as they raced down the shoreline on horseback. Further back, she recognized the chubby finger of a toddler as he traced the outline of his favorite stylized depiction of an old Ukatian Knight, fascinated with the book that she held before him.
She'd always stop reading when they'd made it to that page. Two-hundred-and-eighteen. Cora had committed that number to memory by now. They’d pause for a minute, or two, or three. Then, the story would continue.
Lysander wasn't a child anymore, she knew. He was a young man who'd made his own choices. Consequence would follow. It had to. His choices had changed countless lives for the worse.
As deliberations began, Cora glanced to up toward the gallery. Aurelian and Sibylla were there, somewhere. Perhaps pulling strings, as the King had alluded to.
A dull ache bloomed behind her bandaged eye. The pain faded as quickly as it had come, but left an unsettling pressure remained in its wake. Then they came; subtle whispers in the Force. Not for her, nothing she could meaningfully discern. They floated past her, toward…
Cora turned her head, following the source of that trail behind her.
For no less than a moment, she locked eyes with a woman swathed in white. Echani, beautiful and almost serene, but there was a discordant note to her in the Force. A shadow over those lovely features.
There was nothing overtly wrong, but Jedi had become skilled in reading subtle particularities of the Force by habit - they needed to, given how dominant Sith and their ilk had become in the galaxy.
Cora turned her gaze forward, though her focus remained behind her.
"Something doesn't feel quite right," she muttered to Sophelia.
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