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N I C A E A
In the midst of Galactic turmoil, Thyrsus prospered.
War and conflict meant that the Sun Guard had no shortage of opportunity or work. While the superpowers waged their wars, the people of the Twin Suns profited. Echani fought amongst themselves in the same sector, and because of their misfortune, Thyrsus reveled.
The Confederacy of Independent Systems pulled their influence away from the world. The Silver Jedi left the empty promise of their protection, but not a single Saber jockey had set foot on the world. At last, they were effectively free.
Silas walked purposefully toward the Temple of the Blazing Sun, where waited the Supreme Sun Guardian waited. Today they would address the people. Day would break anew, and they would blaze a path into the future for Thyrsus.
Dancers spun like dervishes along the sides of the promenade, undulating and prostrating themselves in a show of appreciation for life and birth. His eyes did not waver. They sang a chorus to the Heavens. He did not seem to hear.
Though he was different, Silas was decorated as a Stellar Centurion. No one would question his pale flesh. He was as one of their own.
As he ascended the steps, he looked toward
LT-137
with pride swelling in his chest. Their time was fast approaching.

