Dominion The Thirsting Thyrsian | GA Dominion of Thyrsus

[Spirit of Virtuosity]

“. . .We have freed ourselves and will fight with every fibre of our being to ensure our liberty is never taken again. We don’t need the promises of an Echani Noble to guarantee our right to rule.”
-Khonsu Amon, Former Supreme Sun Guardian

Thyrsus
Inner Rim

The beauty of Thyrsus was a duality of the harshness of the sun that baked the sand dunes and the unyielding determination of its people. The history of the people of Thyrsus is one of struggle and scars that stretch across generations. Concerns echo among the citizenry that such wounds may one day reopen should precautions not be taken against their historic oppressors.

With the dissolution of the Empire, the Iron Sun no longer granted the protection it once did over the planet of Thyrsus. The instability with the fall of the Silver Concord soon after had made some in the Core worried for extremist groups to fester like the Maw deep in the Unknown Regions. Daragon Trail and Parlemian Trade Routes run through the Thyrsus system, thus an important junction point to secure and prodive a perfect logistical site to spread the Alliance sphere of influence into former Imperial and Sith space.

Objective One: Feast of Blades

The Thyrsian people pride themselves in their strength of will and toughness of character, but there would always be a slight longing to make the sounds of blades sing to the rhythm of the crowds roaring for their champion. While many view their culture more than simply a “Warrior Culture”, they must continue to push for the strength to defend themselves and showcasing their talents was one of their ways to further that goal.

Watch or participate in the Feast of Blades! While outsiders participating are rare occurrences, none are shunned to engage in the festivities.

While the battles of blades wage on, the streets of the Capital City of Nicaea are filled with vendors showcasing another part of the Thyrsian culture; precious jewels, metals and other ornately designed weapons and armour.

Objective Two: Dictate of the Twin Sons

As the Alliance grows their protection deeper into the Inner Rim and Expansion Region, they first must overcome generational and historic conflicts between planets. The key struggle for freedom among the Thyrsian people is their historic grievance against the Echani people. A notable historic document, The Almera Accord, taught to all Thyrsian youths of the injustices committed against them by the Echani Compact—even if the recent history of the Echani people does not reflect the contents of the document, this piece of history stays close to Thyrsian hearts and minds.

The Galactic Alliance diplomats have been tasked to find a sort of resolution for any future planetary conflicts.

Objective Three: The Iron Sundown

Guarding two major trade routes provide the perfect place to train new and upcoming captains and pilots to patrol against pirates and scout for any militant imperial or sith forces. Reports of Imperial Remnants have made it quite apparent that the Alliance’s old rival have continued to operate in the Eastern reaches of the Galaxy. To assure continued safety of both civilians and trade the Alliance Defense Force had been tasked to weed out any threats near the Thyrsus sector. ​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

It was rare, but Kahlil certainly wasn't going to sit out because of it. Warrior culture. It was a term too often used to demean or simplify so many different races. His own included. Grant it, coming in and making a scene as the Shield of the Jedi wasn't something he wanted to do.

So disguise it was.

For once he was glad to be so short compared to his family. Now he was just a slightly tall guest and not an obvious outsider. Dressed in the typical clothing of the locals with a hood pulled well up, he blended. At least he thought he did. No one paid him any mind so maybe that was enough. He smiled, gave a nod here and there, and found a way to arm and armor himself for the coming battle. He certainly wanted to see Thyrsian combat close up.

Hopefully he wouldn't get more than he bargained for.

 

[Shem Spinner]

Thyrsus
Tags: Kahlil Noble

Goldwing, Epo-1, R5-T399, "Bio"​

Being the son of a warrior and hailing from a culture with a great respect for strength, given the hostile environment of Rishi, Shem couldn't miss the Feast of Blades. He was, of course, more of a bow guy, but the fledgling held a great respect for all forms of combat. He may even participate, but that was something he hadn't yet decided on.

What he had decided was that he'd go incognito. They certainly wouldn't want the Jedi showing up and making a sport of their event, even if Shem understood the cultural significance of combat. He'd certainly need a disguise. An ornate black cloak did the job, taken from his Uncle's collection of lavish threads (that were really gifts from his travels rather than expensive purchases), accompanied by a mask that covered only his eyes. For good measure, Shem had scrawled out a secret identity for himself, writing it on a name tag.

El Pájaro.

​

It was foolproof. Before long the fledgling had infiltrated the event, wandering the various booths on the outskirts of the battle area. There was, shockingly, a set of armor he could wear, a chestplate anyways, which he acquired for himself with the notably limited funds his Uncle allotted him. Then, out of nowhere, Shem caught a glimpse of a familiar face. Master Kahlil?

"Hey, Master!" Shem greeted as he walked up to the large humanoid. "Oh, wait."

He couldn't know Master Kahlil. That would blow his ingenious cover.

"I mean, Stranger-I've-Never-Met," he quickly improvised.

 

[Kiro Torne]

Nicaea | Thyrsian Capitol Building
​

With the removal of the skyhook that had shackled their capital, the city seemed to gleam with colour once more. Nicaea was alive, buzzing with activity. Once more the streets were filled with a joy of a rare sort.

The councillor stared out at the sprawling city from the top of the steps, looking further out to the sands on the horizon and the suns in the sky. The guidance of the Father and the Brother were, for the first time in decades, undistorted and radiant. The Sons of Awondo were overjoyed; the Solar Cult had entered a resurgent period.

Yet when Kiro looked to them for guidance he found little light to be gleamed from them. In the time where his people had regained their strength and homeworld, he felt abandoned by the suns, cast into darkness. But in the face of it his resolve hardened. For the good of his people, he would do what was necessary. The coming negotiations would be the easy part.

The Senators and representatives of the Galactic Alliance were forced to walk through the streets of Nicaea from the spaceport -- a test of sorts, to ensure they were not so faint of heart as to falter under the stares of the Thyrsian people or the heat of the twin suns. Kiro doubted that any would flee or burn, but it was a first impression, letting the Alliance know what it would take to keep Thyrsus, and the joy and strength Thyrsus could bring to the Alliance, now that it was free.

The councillor and two of his fellows greeted the envoy at the top of the steps to the capitol, beginning with a simple bow and handshake. "Welcome. The others await us inside."

He led them inside to the building's Sun Chamber, a meeting room at the building's pinnacle, where the Thyrsian High Council would meet under the light of the noontime suns from a massive skylight above. A round table had been set for them, crafted of a dark, obsidian-like stone, and ingrained with golden patterns. The council's numbers had fluctuated over the years, but now twelve Thyrsians took up seats on one side of the table, with one remaining empty beside Kiro.

While the official offer for membership had been given to Thyrsus, and the Council had promised its acceptance by the end of the day today, they had also demanded a closed-door session to lay out some additional conditions on their membership, which had not been shared with the Alliance delegation. However, the question of Eshan-Thyrsus relations, given the fraught history between them, was almost certainly on the table.

Once the council members and Alliance delegates had gotten comfortable and introduced themselves, Kiro opened the session.

"Thank you for coming here today. This council is honored to soon become part of the Galactic Alliance. Though we have brought you here today to express some concerns and have them addressed, I would like to begin by providing some additional terms by which Thyrsus and the Alliance might become better acquainted and strengthened.

"As part of our membership, Thyrsus is willing to offer three key things. First is information on the Imperials and the warlords that have arisen in some parts with the waning of their influence. We understand that you are interested in... dissuading their continued operations. Many of us see that as a worthy goal, and we are willing to hand over information and data to help in that endeavour. The Moff who previously ruled our sector was a Thyrsian, and held considerable power, which, with his death, fell to this council to manage; we are willing to work in concert with the Alliance in handling any potential problems.

"Second is military support and expertise. Our military and people have been fighting constantly for many, many years; our warriors are among the best in the galaxy. Though the Alliance is, at the moment, regulating its military spending -- at least in relation to its spending during the war with the Maw -- Thyrsus is willing to provide soldiers, equipment, and ships to become part of the GADF on regular loan. We will provide three regiments of Thyrsian soldiers, and one of the Sun Guard, at all times, along with the ships necessary to transport them, the equipment to arm them, and escort vessels for any naval engagements. Our people, though at peace, must still exercise their martial spirit, and closer ties between our armed forces seems like the correct path forward.

"Third, I would simply like to reaffirm our commitment to ending the Helot class. While it has been a part of our culture for some time, slavery is not something truly Thyrsian, and we would be glad to be rid of it. We are also committed to supporting any punishments for those who fail to observe the law in this regard.

"That being said, some other aspects of our culture should not be changed. You saw the Feast outside; there is no greater event on Thyrsus. With that in mind, the celebrations -- specifically the fighting pits -- must remain, and when it comes to combat, it must remain lethal. Usually, very few warriors die during the Feast, but it is an essential part of it. A reminder of the fragility of life, and the strength needed to overcome it. We are willing to accommodate some regulation, but to ban killing in the ring would be a detriment to our morale.

"Additionally, our people's martial spirit is not one easily quelled. We would like to request the removal of any limits on planetary defense force fleet size in order to accommodate our local recruits, and to ensure the safety of our system. The Almera Accord is still in our collective consciousness, and a large defense force would ease many of our people's minds.

"With the same objective of easing our people's minds, we would like to request the right to deport or block entry to any Echani that may be in or enter our system. Our history of hatred is a long one, and not yet faded. To allow any Echani to come here and cause trouble, or undue stress upon our people -- we are both martial peoples. Such encounters can only end one way. This council wishes to avoid such incidents, and the easiest way to do so is to remove the Echani from our space. We understand that this may contradict the freedom of movement enjoyed by Alliance citizens, but we see it as necessary. Of course, it is doubtful that any Echani would decide to come here regardless." They burn so easily, he thought.

With the terms laid out, he looked briefly to his peers; they all nodded their assent, though some with more vigour than others.

"If these terms are acceptable to you, then we can end this meeting quickly."

 

[Arash Garshasp]

Arash Garshasp, Stellar Centurion
Location: Thyrsus, Arena

Blood, sand and tears. Staple ingredients of any Thyrsian Warrior, in particular for the tournaments being held during the festival. The sun shining brilliantly across the fighting pits, the crowds cheering, thunderous applause and the fierce chants of the Thyrsian engaged in duels. The clash of blades continued to echo into the lower tunnels that fed into the larger arena, and there Arash stood ready to step forward into the sun.

His eyes widened with excitement as the last sounds of a duel was heard, the roar of the crowds cheered the combatants and with a quick jump forward Arash rushed through the exit. Arash smiled and laughed as the crowds cheered, his braided hair moved gently with the wind and with a fierce gaze and small smirk Arash looked towards his opponent. Raising both fists the young Thyrsian charged straight ahead, the other warrior was much older and his beard had plenty of dirt.

Arash felt confident, he was fresh and the older man was probably worn out from the previous fight. With a quick step forward, fluid motion of his hips twisting and his left leg snapping directly against his opponent's waist. Arash’s smile vanished as he felt the connection but not the movement he had expected. The older warrior had caught and softened much of the blow of the kick, and with a single pull Arash found himself lunging forward to keep himself upright.

The young Thyrsian twisted his body to the other side and kicked with his other leg, the older warrior released the leg to block the other kick. Arash found himself in a compromised position as he quickly scrambled backwards to regain footing and distance. But the older warrior didn’t give him much time and quickly dashed forward to finish the fight. Arash rolled right and launched himself up with his legs, barely catching himself from falling before ducking to avoid two quick punches. His hands caught him from eating more sand and with even less time nearly avoided a kick and two more jabs from the older warrior.

Arash kept himself on his toes as he maintained his distance and fighter’s posture. His calves were beginning to scream at him about remaining on the top of his feet while moving, but Arash needed to keep himself light and ready to dodge. Arash waited, the older warrior threw another two jabs, he remembered the pattern movement and Arash went to counter with his own right fist. He felt the connection, a clear direct hit across the jaw but before Arash could bend his lips into a smirk he felt a rush of air escape his mouth as he felt a knee slam against his stomach.

Reeling from the blow Arash began to scramble on the sand but found himself cornered by the older warrior who wasn’t too amused about the blood pouring from his mouth and being caked onto his beard. As the older warrior attempted to stomp down, Arash launched a fistful of sand upwards and kicked the older man’s legs from under him. With both knocked down to the sand Arash spared a moment to catch his breath before pouncing forward and began to grapple the older warrior.

This was now a battle of attrition as Arash held the older warrior in a tight grapple, his arms attempting to squeeze the older man’s throat and Arash’s legs made attempts to complete the hold. While the older warrior kept one arm trying to dislodge Arash’s hand and the other attempting to punch Arash off of his back. Arash continued his hold, ever so slightly feeling the resistance of his opponent softening, and to what felt like an entirety the older warrior slapped Arash’s arm and held his other up to surrender. Almost instantly Arash relaxed and rolled off the older man’s back with a soft thud on the sandy ground. The crowds cheers roared filled the fighting arena but for the young Thyrsian nothing was louder than the beating of his heart filling his eardrums.

“That’s one fighter down.” Arash laughed and slowly picked himself up and helped up the other Thyrsian warrior. The sun was clear up high in the sky, and the day ahead would only yield more fights and bruised egos.
​

 

[Gweneth Zarari]

Location: Thyrsus Arena
Objective: Arena combat - Objective 1
Tag: OPEN

Gweneth wasnt supposed to be back there, but her Echo stone was increasing the effectiveness of her glamour abilities and slipping behind the scenes of the arena had proved to be fairly easy. She was now amongst the cages of large beasts that would one by one be raised into the arena. The Chaldean got the warrior culture thing, it was cool, it was kind of hot, but these animals shouldn't be a part of it. Unfortunately she couldn't do too much, she was happy to break a few laws, but freeing everything would just alert the authorities, and have them all rounded up and probably killed. No, she had a better idea, she was going to have a little fun. There was a fight scheduled, six local tribesmen against a single Giant bear sloth the fights were balanced so the humanoids would have a tough, but not insurmountable time against the wild beasts. Except Gwen wasn't a wild beast and was trained in combat, which would very much tip the scales in her favour. Chaldean physiology and use of the force also made her slightly tougher than a full natural.

She arrived at the correct cage and slipped towards the back where the emergency release was, should the place flood or catch fire, they could get the animals out quickly. She pulled the lever and the gate opened a crack. The bearsloth looked at her with curiosity, so she simply stroked it's nose and sent it on its way into the wild, if it died now, at least it would be on its own terms.

The door creaked shut again and in a few seconds the red head had taken the form of the nearly four metre long creature, it felt strange for her and she was a little nervous, but this would be fun. The warriors upstairs wanted a challenging fight and the audience wanted a show, she would give them both.

It took a little whole of waiting for her turn to arrive and she was disturbed whilst eating some raw meat dropped into her cage. But moments later the alarm that had been intended to anger the original occupants stopped and the cage began to lift up. Gwen played the part, snarling and growling as the machinery worked. As soon as it arrived at the top, she pounced and jumped into one of the trees in the arena. From there she began to move, stalking her prey using both her senses and the force. The first man she found easily, he had run ahead, hungry for glory and he now crept alone in the area below her, being watched by a small hovering camera droid. Gwen held her breath and dropped onto the ground, landing behind him and immediately attacking. Her claws lashed across his back, ripping open his shirt and cutting his flesh. Gwen most likely could have killed him with that strike, but she didn't want to kill anyone. Of she was caught she could probably get away with a little misadventure charge, maybe be banned from the tournament, murder was an entirely different thing.

The man recovered, rolled and swung with his electro baton, narrowly missing her. She swept again, taking his legs out from beneath him before jumping on him and getting the impression she had broken his ankle. That was good enough, he was out of action as he lay the screaming in pain at his ankle. Gwen briefly turned as she heard more warriors running towards them, but chose to retreat, heading to the trees to pick her own engagement, this was where she was so much more dangerous than the real beast.

​

 

[Osarla Ridor]

THE RETIRED GENERAL RIDOR
OBJ ONE || THYRSUS || NICAEA ||

“Gods of risk.” Osarla muttered, her tone edged melancholy. For a minute, she was lost to the stretch of golden sands, and too-bright sunlight that seemed shadowless and in all directions.

She squinted, grunted, and turned back to the present. A youth maybe just one or two years senior to her Padawan. Even at six-foot-something, and his little horns, Osarla looked well over his head.

“That’s what all warriors are, in their hearts, hm?”

Osarla was retiring from her position as General of the 222nd. There were successors in place, hierarchies to be followed, but was still territorial over her men — in an excruciatingly tender way. The Supreme Commander understood that, and gave her leeway to intermingle with Defense Force fairly fluidly. Including duty where new recruits could be a part of the GADF. The Feast of blades expected to accommodate the interest of many bold Thyrsians. If someone wanted her to interview any new recruits, she’d be available.

In the interim, she was meandering with a lietutenant.

"Your file said you came from a long line of tribal warriors, you see anything that reminds you of home out there?" She chinned in the direction of where the warriors mingled before boldly presenting themselves in the arena.

​

---

Corbin Valor​

 

[Kassogtha Cthylla]

Kiro Torne + Diplomats
​

Much as she had on Induomodo, Master Cthylla had come to assist the Alliance in a diplomatic capacity. The Pylantian did not sit at the table—chairs didn't do much for her amorphous body—but found a comfortable position between Oukranos and an Alliance diplomat who was at least willing to tolerate her presence. Her gray and black hide had been freshly buffed and painted with bright colors in the Sashkatros style. She smelled faintly of spray-on sunscreen.

So far things were going smoothly. A Thyrsian man who seemed to speak for the entirety of the Thyrsian Council had opened the meeting with a speech. First he made promises, then he made demands. His final term in particular drew Kass' attention, but before she could say anything, Toloth Threepwood, the Senator of Chaldea, spoke.

"Freedom of movement is a fundamental right under Alliance law." Threepwood tapped his fingers against his cane. With his eyes hidden by sunglasses and the tone of his baritone voice compressed to a flat plane, it was difficult to discern his emotions. "No exceptions can be made on the basis of species, race, or ethnicity. If barring the Echani from your world is a hill you are willing to die on, do not join the Alliance."

Kass stared at him with her numerous eyes, her mouths pulling into frowns. She had heard rumors of Chaldea's sentient rights abuses toward immigrant refugees, and wasn't sure what to make of his response. But she did still have something to say.

"To suggest that every member of an entire species could travel to a planet for the sole purpose of causing trouble is absurd. So is the idea that the mere presence of the Echani on Thyrsus is enough to cause 'undue stress' to the people. They may have been your historical oppressors, but they no longer hold power over you."

 

[Bear]

Objective two:

The heat was oppressive and pounded down on his heavy pelt like twin hammers. He'd drank more in the last hour then he had in the last week at least. Add to it the pain he wasn't sure why he was even here. Well he'd been told to so he supposed he knew why, but he didn't understand it. He was basically on servant detail, run to get stuff if it was needed, or just to stand and watch at the side. It suited him though, he'd done far harder labors during his years as a slave, and he was more then slightly curious as to something this grand.

Squeezing a paw into a fist he swore he felt it wring out like a towel from the sweat, but he paid it no mind and simply drank some more water. He listened to Kiro Torne speak, and the man seemed measured and reasonable, but how reasonable his demands were or weren't Bear really didn't know. It seemed fair enough to him that if an entire people wanted to keep someone out they should be able to, no? It was there planet after all right?

The response though seemed to instantly push against that idea, and this freedom of movement thing seemed like it had some merit. None of this was for him to decide though, just observe and so far fill some cups. Mostly his own. His eyes kept drawing over to Kassogtha Cthylla not quite to the point of staring, but it was close in all honesty. He'd never seen such a creature and in truth his gaze was pure curiosity as he tried to figure out exactly what it was. All he did know is she was a Jedi, not a simple Padawan like him but a full master of the Force if he understood correctly.

Shaking his head to throw off some sweat he moved to drink again glancing back towards the discussion. It seemed an awfully long way to go to end so quickly, but maybe that's just how politics and diplomacy worked, quick and to the point. Maybe.

 

[Alicio Organa]

Nicaea, Thyrsus
OBJ 2
- Kiro Torne - Kassogtha Cthylla - Bear - @Open -​

The walk through Nicaea had not been easy.

Alicio Organa seemed to survive the weather well enough. Despite the abnormal heat, and the black and silver ensemble he'd insisted on wearing, the darkly-dressed Senator hadn't even broken a sweat. Oddly enough, if one were to stand too close to the Alderaanian, they may have noticed the temperature dip a few degrees, an unnatural chill in the air that banished itself as they went inside.

No, the hard part was the stares. Alicio kept his chin up, his gait steady, regal even, but he could only weather the attention so long. Some of it was good- there was cheering and festivity in the streets, after all- but not everything was so warm on Thyrsus.

Now, within the inner sanctum of the Capitol Building, he sat aside Master Cthylla, a little more used to her form since their first interaction on Induomodo. He was a silent observer, giving Speaker Torne his full attention, as he listed the full extent of Thyrsus' position. None of what he said surprised the Count, though he couldn't say he was entirely pleased with what he heard.

Apparently, neither was Senator Threepwood, and Master Cthylla was quick to follow. Alicio frowned, letting the two delegates speak, and standing before the assumedly annoyed Thyrsian delegation could respond. "We... overstep our welcome," the nobleman began, giving Toloth a warding side-eye. "Thank you for hosting us. It truly is an honor for us to stand in this place, where light has struggled to reach for so long."

His sterling gaze swept across the room, observing those in attendance, the way the muscles contracted under their faces. "Let us begin with what we can do. Gladiatorial combat is a cornerstone of Thyrsian culture, and as long as the games are entirely consensual, efforts are made to keep the participants safe, and animal cruelty laws are upheld, I see no issue with keeping them." Personally, Alicio found bloodsport entirely distasteful, but he could put his feelings aside to ensure better lives for all of Thrysus.

"Restrictions on planetary defense can also be lifted, but the GADC would be required to monitor your forces closely, and a percentage of what is excess the standard limit would be expected to serve with our Defense Forces, should we leave our times of peace." It seemed a reasonable ask for a people devoted to war.

"But our final point... has been put succinctly by Senator Threepwood and Master Cthylla. A travel advisory will be put in place, regardless of what we decide here, but... we cannot ban any species from visiting a planet. It goes against our charter, a charter that you must abide by, if you intend to join."

 

[Théodoro]

Arash Garshasp | Kahlil Noble Shem Spinner
​

That first touch of battle oil felt like waking from a years-long sleep. Compared to the amounts he'd bathed in before, a short shower in it was practically nothing -- and yet it felt like the first time again. He'd awoken and it felt like he would never sleep again.

As he tightened his armour, he took a glance at the warriors who'd gathered for the melee. Mostly Thyrsians, of course; no Mandalorians this year as far as he could tell. A few offworlders-

Theo was suddenly compelled to walk over to the tall, cloaked man and the bird-child. He stopped in front of the man. "Don't hide," he said. "They won't respect you if you do."

He turned to leave, but paused a moment as he looked at the bird-child. "You as well."

After that, he left them to grab his weapon.

The Feast of Blades had not changed much over the thousands of years it had been practiced. Uniquely, the weapons supplied to the fighters for the armed portion of the fighting were all crafted specially for the event -- masterwork weapons, and yet without a touch of modern technology on them. The armour the fighters wore was crude, their blades sharp but lacking plasma filaments or vibro-generators.

After so long without fighting, it felt like a return home for the Sun Guard. As he walked out of the arena's tunnel he balanced his spear on his finger. Its weight was perfectly distributed, and the steel-bronze shone in the light of the twin suns.

Cheers accompanied the arrival of today's warriors; few were for him. The last time he'd fought at the Feast he'd taken second place, something he'd been meaning to rectify ever since -- though, the delay of quite literally being sent to hell had forced him to wait. Today was the day, he thought; his strength would be shown to be without peer.

He spun his spear and struck his own shield a few times, finding his spot in the pit. Silence took the crowd. An announcer roared, drums rang out, and the fighting started.

 

[Rens Ahim]

Nicaea, Thyrsus
Objective 2​

Tag: Kiro Torne Kassogtha Cthylla Alicio Organa Bear

Rens Ahim sat close to the Alliance and Jedi delegation. Being born and raised around the sea, Thyrsus' desert had been murder to his aquatic skin. The long walk to this gathering had been an ordeal to say the least. Yet he came all the same, showing as an Alliance representative to the Thyrsians that he is more than willing to sacrifice his comfort and if need be his health to reach out to them.

He wore a regular Mon Calamari style uniform but tailored with Thyrisan symbolic colors as a sign of respect to his hosts. Like many of the others the Mon Calamari senator listened to Kiro Torne's speech attentively but he did raise an eye with alarm at the final demand. Then Rens winced at Threepwood, bluntly speaking out his objection before the strangest Jedi he ever saw followed suit. He did agreed that banning Echani is wrong yet Toloth should've been more careful about it given the circumstances.

The Jedi consular was right that others shouldn't be punished for their ancestors' actions. Fortunately Alico took his turn and Rens nodded in full approval.

Uncomfortable as he is about blood-sports, Rens did believe they could make a concession on that as long as it is kept within Thyrsus' system and regulated. As someone who supported a strong military he welcomed what their potential new allies can offer and do the same for them. Clearing his throat and giving a respectful bow to Kiro Torne Bestine's senator finally said.

"Like my Alderaanian colleague has already stated, we thank you for hosting us here. I also agree with him about how we can accommodate your culture and concerns. However, like what he and the others said, we can't abide to that final point. Please understand we are a coalition of various civilizations and countless races. The Galactic Alliance can't and shouldn't discriminate against sentient beings based on their species, faiths and cultures."

Pausing for a moment, Rens then added.

"Think of this way. If you agree to joining the Alliance your people will enjoy the same rights and privileges as citizens from all member states do. Including the freedom to travel in our borders without discrimination toward you. Moreover as mutual partners we will be able to cooperate more effectively together in case of galactic threats.”

 

[FN-999]

OBJ: III
Allies: Imperial Remnants | Open
Enemies: GA | Open

Two men stood solemnly on the bridge of the Malediction. ​

One was a Human male in his early sixties, with a tall, slender build and a head full of pure white hair. He wore an immaculate gray Navy officer's uniform with the insignia of a rear admiral and stood with his hands clasped behind his back. The other man's features were concealed by a full suit of stormtrooper armor, with only the vague impression that he was sturdily built and slightly taller than the rear admiral. Yet the trooper exuded authority far above his expected station, and junior officers repeatedly glanced at him before resuming their calculations.

"How much longer until we arrive, Rear Admiral?" asked the trooper.

"Five minutes, Baron." replied the naval commander.

"Thank you." replied FN-999, Baron of Borosk.

For a little while, the two stopped speaking, content to stand in silence. Then, the admiral spoke up.

"Do you really think this will work?" confided the officer. "The Alliance already has a presence in the system. The moment they start scrambling their forces, it will likely be mere hours before we're driven out or destroyed. Do you really think your forces can inflict the damage you want in such a short time frame?

"Yes." responded the Baron. "I do."

"The Alliance is stretched thin at this moment. Yes, they are present in the system. And you are probably right that we will have no more than a few hours before reinforcements arrive, Rear Admiral Valenta. However, they cannot be everywhere at once. By contrast, we can arrive at the unguarded fringes of the system, do our work, and then jump out of the system before we ourselves are jumped."

"Even a small haul will go a long way towards keeping Borosk running. Without a central administration to cater to our needs, this is the most efficient way to get what we cannot produce on Borosk."

"I'm overthinking this, aren't I." muttered Rear Admiral James Valenta.

"Yes, you are." replied Nines. "But I understand where you come from. It shows you care about this mission, as small as it may be."

"When the Empire collapsed, I know a lot of people who stopped caring. They resigned themselves to the idea that the Imperial state would never rise again, and gave up its ideas of order and justice. They turned to petty crime, alcoholism, or mercenary work. Some were so disillusioned that they even lost the will to live. It makes me happy to know that there are still those who keep the spark alive."

"Thank you, Rear Admiral Valenta."

"It has been an honor to serve by your side."

Suddenly, a third voice interjected.

"Exiting hyperspace in T-minus ten seconds!"

"Ten!"
"Nine!"
"Eight!"
"Seven!"
"Six!"
"Five!"
"Four!"
"Three!"
"Two!"
"One!"

The kaleidoscope of blue outside the bridge suddenly warped and bent, giving way to the star-speckled black of the cosmos.

Moments later, two escort frigates emerged on the flanks of Malediction, completing the formation.

They had arrived at the edge of the Thyrsus system.

Immediately, five cargo ships appeared on Malediction's radar. Alarms blared across the cruiser, causing men and women to scramble into action, firing up engines and opening hangar gates.

"I will go check on the troops." declared the Baron. "Rear Admiral, I leave the fleet and starfighters to you. Good luck. Long live the Empire."

"Long live the Empire."

 

[Valery Noble]

Thyrsus System

​

Outfit: Factory Link | Wedding Ring
Appearance: Link
Ship: Link
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag: Closed | DM to join

For once, Valery wasn't down on the planet with Kahlil Noble or other Jedi to work alongside them. She sat alone in the cockpit of her X-wing, adrift just outside the gravitational field of the planet, and focused on the Force. In the aftermath of the Second Great Hyperspace War, the Alliance enjoyed a time of peace, but Valery always knew it had been a fragile one. Even at the end of the war, another group of Sith had already started terrorizing planets in the Outer Rim.

But a lot more darker pieces were moving everywhere.

The Alliance had encountered Imperials on the planet, who despite what happened continued to fight for what they believed in, and to hold onto the planets they once held in an iron grip. The end of the war with the Maw should have been an end to all conflict, at least for some time, but it felt like that relief was slipping away much faster than anticipated.

So, for once, Valery wasn't at the front with a blade drawn, but far in the back, meditating on the chaos that could easily cloud one's judgement about the state of the Galaxy.

She had to be ready for what was next.

 

[Ko Vuto]

Objective: III
Location: Thyrsus System
Enemies: Imperial Remnant
Allies: Galactic Alliance​

Farming was a coward's occupation? This sentiment did not sit well with Ko. Already he’d developed a disliking towards the local Thrysians. It seemed as though they had a culture with a concerning predisposition to conflict. Perhaps they just didn’t have the patience to practice agriculture. One might think that on a barren world like this, being able to grow food was a respectable skill.

Fortunately for the Kel Dor, Ko didn’t see himself touch down on the world. Instead he was flying around high above, using the strategic location of the system to develop his piloting skills along with other aspiring aviators. Somewhat ironically, Ko really didn’t like flying despite having a bit of an affinity for it. Still though he wasn’t very sure why he didn’t like flying. Maybe it made him feel claustrophobic, but then again he didn’t feel uneasy in other tight spaces.

Suddenly Ko’s comms started flaring up over reports of UFOs near the edge of the system. He was rather limited when it came to dealing with astronomical anomalies. But space travel was a passion of his and recalled that in some parts of the galaxy UFOs popping in out of hyperspace could be a flock of Purrgils passing by. Which if that was the case now Ko would love to catch a glimpse of the majestic creatures. However, from the chattering of comms it was starting to sound like these UFOs weren’t some kind of void ecology…

 

[Starlin Rand]

Makko Vyres Arash Garshasp Shem Spinner Théodoro Kahlil Noble
​

A lot of the other Jedi seemed to turn their noses up at Thyrsian bloodsports. It wasn't hard to see why. The combatants in these games would fight and kill animals who had been raised from birth to die in the arena. When the Thyrsians fought each other, they often did so to the death. To spare a life was seen as dishonorable and an insult to the loser.

At least, that was how it had been in the past. Starlin wasn't sure how many of these traditions were still practiced, but he was curious enough about them to want to witness their bloodsports for himself. Observing from a spectator's seat, he watched Arash Garshasp duel against an older warrior. "Nice save," he remarked, glancing toward Makko... only to find his apprentice's seat empty.

Huh. Had he gone to the 'fresher or something?...

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Kahlil stared blankly at Shem for a moment from under his hood, then tilted his head.

"Why are you wearing a mask?"

It wasn't his intent to come in masked, just not stand out too much and overshadow anything. Which apparently had the opposite effect as one of the locals approached them both. He let out a sigh as he glanced to the man, then to Shem. And shrugged. At this point, what did it matter? He pulled off his cloak before stepping finally over to lift up a broadsword. "Well, you heard them. We're not here to disrespect anyone." Not that he was here for anything more than experiencing a fight against the Thyrsians.

"Try and keep up, yeah?"

He flashed the Padawan a grin, then leapt right into the fight.

Shem Spinner | Makko Vyres | Arash Garshasp | Théodoro | Starlin Rand

 

[Kiro Torne]

Kassogtha Cthylla Bear Alicio Organa Rens Ahim
​

Kiro clicked his tongue. "I was using diplomatic language," he said, nodding to the unusually alien Jedi. "I will be more clear with you from here on.

"I did not live here during the occupation, but my uncle did. He is now one hundred and ten years old. His memory is starting to fade, but there is one story that he can always recount in perfect detail, one that he takes great joy in telling.

"Soldiers from the Echani garrison often came down to abuse the populace -- to them, a Thyrsian was inherently inferior, a pitiful and troublesome creature. Our lives were at their mercy, and they would often remind us of that. We, of course, hated them for it. Even our children.

"A patrol of Echani Firedancers, while on break, decided to kill a trio of schoolboys who were out a little too late in the evening. They laid bleeding in the street, throats slit, while the Echani laughed. It was an injustice that needed to be paid in blood. The community gathered, and the next night that patrol was on duty, they disappeared.

"The statue at the heart of Arka square -- the smooth sandstone of a Thyrsian warrior, sword raised. You passed it on your way here. The five Firedancers were found there in the morning three days after they disappeared. They were cut in half, drained of all blood, and burned as though they had been left under the desert suns for two days. Their intestines trailed around the edge of the square, connecting their lower halves, and then back around to the base of the statue. Their upper halves were stacked on the statue's sword, from their open undersides up through their mouths. Their tongues and eyes had been removed, their blood baked onto their faces. My uncle skipped down the street that day; even when they closed the square, he still went for a walk every day to see the statue.

"The garrison, of course, retaliated with more murder, more oppression. Thyrsus resisted how it could, but the injustices we faced are not so easily repaid. Now that we are free, would you expect us to be civil with those who chained us? To not use comparably tame violence against them? Now that we have regained our strength, there are many who would not mind exercising it on those Echani foolish enough to come here, and few who would oppose such violence.

"This is not a request to oppress the Echani; if anything, it is a request to protect them. If someone you knew were heading someplace to be killed, wouldn't you stop them? Or would you leave them to die, because it is their right?

"We want to join the Alliance -- we would be fools not to. But we expect that Eshan, too, will join soon. If you have a desire to prevent violence, this must be done."

 

[Adriana Fortemps]

// Aide Fortemps //
// Thyrsus // Objective 2 //
// Focus // Kiro Torne // Alicio Organa // Bear // Kassogtha Cthylla // Rens Ahim // OPEN //

---

---

As the heat and sand brushed across the Echani's dark robes, the irony of her visit was not lost on her. Here she was on the planet of her people's generational rivals before her boots had ever tapped against her supposed homeworld. Adriana's black hood hid most of her heritage, hair tied tightly so no loose strands of silver hair would turn the local celebratory passion against her.

Even if Adriana didn't care for the history and supposed hatred she was meant to hold for the people she passed by, it hardly meant she would be treated the same. It was hard to judge the vitriol, considering who had been the aggressor in history, stories of silver-haired warriors stained with the blood of their distant relatives had checkered much of both species past.

The Senatorial badge that the Aide carried on behalf of the non-verbal Senator of Froswythe had managed to get her through most inspections without event. It was hardly in her best interest to be the member of her party sent here, but the risk was justified in having her finger closer to the pulse of current Alliance events.

The Thyrsians staring at the Senatorial congression were more focused on their show of spirit than picking out any slight features of an Echani. A show that Adriana could respect if not as an Echani, then as a former warrior.

The heat of the suns licked violently against the Echani's skin, her hope for relief shattered by the open decorum of the Sun Chamber. Adriana wondered if her own people cared as much for dedication towards a theme as she gently brushed the sweat from her brow.

Taking a seat amongst her Alliance peers, the Aide listened in turn as she jot notes for her own benefit. There would be an official recording of course, but the difference between what is written and what is understood felt important for this event.

As the Thyrsian delegate spoke terms for his planet's assimilation into the Galactic Alliance, Adriana found herself in a separate position from many of her colleagues. As her pale eyes watched many members' faces twist in discomfort at the idea of keeping lethal bloodsports, Adriana passed over that without a second thought. Planets are entitled to celebrate how they desire, facing death was an honourable privilege that many here had lived too comfortably to find virtuous. Instead, her frustration built at the idea of the Thyrsian's keeping a grander standard army than would normally be allowed.

"With respect to Senator Organa from the Alderaanian delegation, I would further question the idea of Thyrsus holding a grander defence force than the Alliance would normally allow." Adriana rose as she spoke, ignoring the threats against the Echani as she spoke. "While we understand the importance of your culture and the martial ideal Thyrsus strives for, if we expect Eshan to join the Alliance in time, would they not expect the same privilege considering the history of your peoples?"

"By allowing for Thyrsus to host an unrestricted defence force, it seems unlikely for the Echani to consider agreeing to join our Alliance unless we extend the same offer to them as well."

Adriana turned around to address her own delegation as well as more of the Thyrsian politicians.

"And if we allow both planets unrestricted limits on their defence forces, standing armies in essence, we do little to ease the tension between these planets. I empathize with the history of your people, but if we are to continue as an alliance we cannot abide our members ignoring our restrictions. Whether culturally warranted or otherwise."

 

[Shem Spinner]

Thyrsus
Tags: Kahlil Noble , Théodoro , Others...

Goldwing, Epo-1, R5-T399, "Bio"​

"Why are you wearing a mask?"

"Wait, we're not incognito?" Shem reacted with a surprised frown.

Then what was Master Kahlil wearing a cloak for? It didn't matter, ultimately. A warrior of the Thyrsian came and told them that they shouldn't hide. It would be disrespectful. Shem nodded. He was bummed for a moment, given that he had taken such time to prepare a disguise, but before long the boy reached for the collar of his cloak, removing the disguise...

It was Shem the entire time?
Insert gasp here.

Goldwing, Epo-1, R5-T399​

"Try and keep up, yeah?"

"I'm the fastest bird this side of the galaxy," Shem assured. "Maybe the only bird. I don't know if they have birds here."

The point is that he was fast, and very much ready to start throwing hands. Wings. Wing-hands. No blade did he carry, only his talons. Shem may not have been a sword fighter, but he was a rather effective kick-boxer, receiving some tutoring from his father and great uncle. If he had natural blades, he may as well use them.

So, the fledgling very quickly jumped into the fray, locking eyes with an opponent as soon as he did so. A sword blow came, an upper cut, which the Rishii dodged with the slightest amount of anticipation. Shem couldn't prompt the visions he received as a seer, but he was rather good at predicting. As soon as he could punish the blow he did, planting a kick in the chest of the Thyrsian warrior that launched him a good distance away. He was down.

"Alright, who's next!" the boy mused, hopping from one talon to the other in anticipation. "I'm ready!"

He'd also keep an eye out for Kahlil. A chance to see the Shield of the Jedi in action was one he couldn't miss.