Dominion Welcome to the Republic, Beaches! [THR Dom of Truuine, Gydine and Nahkisa]

[Brooke Waters]

Dice

 

[Jared Starchaser]

Airspeeders weren’t always great for the cold, but this world? It had the credits that were needed to make things happen. Jared escorted his Twi’lek companion towards the speeder, not realizing what was going on outside. Helping her into the speeder, he was more hoping he could pull some information out of her. She was here, so she had to know something. And there was just something in her vibes.

Jared glanced her over, noting the concealed knife at the small of her back. A quick twitch with the Force and it was moved just out of her right hand reach, enough to hopefully slow her.

As they pulled away, Jared kept a close eye on her and looked for the tunnels.

“So those are the tunnels…” She said, and he nodded.

There was a Jedi trail here.

“Lets go down…” And as he took the speeder for a dive, down came the ice spears. “What in the nine hells?”

Even her eyes looked wide, Jared manuevering between the falling spears.



Bastila Sal-Soren Dominic Praxon Xandyr Carrick

 

[Bettany Sal-Soren]

Location: beach house
Objective: enjoy the beach
Tag: Raymjarr Kortu Lily Decoria Lily Rhodes Brooke Waters

Bettany's heart was pounding when she hears the first shots from her body guard that took out jellyfish that were pursuing her. She fumbled for the keys before finally getting them out and opening the beach hut. She was scared, to scared to even be annoyed that she had dropped her sunglasses along the way.

They finally got inside the hut and Bettany slammed the door behind her and locked it, looking at Ray. It was eerily quiet considering the drama unfolding outside and Bettany was aware that she was shaking. The silence lasted a few seconds before there was a thud on the door from outside. They were very much not safe.

"I need to change, I can't run in this dress." she said beginning to undo the ties that held it together and walking into an adjoining room. She could see through the windows outside that more of the infected people were running at the hut so they didnt have a lot of time before they were surrounded. She called through to Ray. "My car isnt far from here, we can probably get out the back way and make a run for it. Can you grab my black bag thats on the sofa." she pulled on a pair of linen shorts and grabbed her top, just as there was a bang on the window and she saw one of the jellyfish people standing on the other side looking at here. There was a smear of suncream and sweat on the window as he pushed himself against it and observed her with his cold, empty eyes.

Her breath cut in her throat and she hurried to finish dressing as she ran back to rejoin her bodyguard.

 

[Lancel Atria]

The metallic snap of the locks engaging should have been the gut-wrenching climax, but hearing her voice was what truly drained the life from Lancel's face. "Sithspit," he hissed. His fingers white-knuckled the tucked corner of his towel, anchoring it as if her mere presence possessed the power to unravel his only shred of dignity.

He was already at the door, fingers hooked into the seam in a futile, desperate attempt to pry the durasteel apart. Defeat eventually won out. He slumped, resting his forehead against the cold frame and exhaling a long, jagged sigh.

Only then did he let her words sink in.

The pallor of shock had vanished, replaced by a heat that surged from his chest to his hairline, staining his cheeks a humiliated crimson. He turned his head just enough to catch her eye, his voice low and strained.

"For the love of Epica, Calypso...promise me this wasn't you." He knew she would deny it — she already had — but the timing was far too poetic to be an accident.

Taera 'Calypso'
​

 

[Lily Decoria]

​

Location: Nahkisa Beach
Outfit: Beachwear
Equipment: None
Tag: Lily Rhodes

Lily chuckled softly when the other woman identified herself as Lily. That was not at all going to be confusing for the rest of the conversation but the Jedi Knight knew her name was not one that was super unique. "Well, it seems that this is a small galaxy after all. Though I know our name is one that is fairly common in the galaxy. Not like some other names out there." Lily smiled warmly to the other woman as there was no doubts in her mind that this was someone else called Lily. It would be far stranger to just lie and copy the name in her mind.

"Sometimes. If they look like they need to talk with someone." Lily shrugged her shoulders, "might be something I picked up from my aunt. She was someone who helped people with therapy and stuff. Was... Not dead was, just my aunt kind of lost her way and stopped helping people." Lily started trailing off as she realised she was talking unnecessarily but couldn't help herself. "Sorry for the oversharing."

Looking to the other Lily, the Jedi Knight smiled softly, "also, being a Jedi, you kind of constantly feel the need to help others. But if I am wrong and you desire some privacy, please let me know." Lily hoped that she hadn't interrupted someone just enjoying a moment of quiet reflection. It was something that Lily herself knew was important and hated whenever others interrupted that time for her.

 

[Lily Rhodes]

Tags: Lily Decoria Brooke Waters Raymjarr Kortu Bettany Sal-Soren​

A swimmer let out a confused yelp as a translucent, stinging mass latched onto his back, its filaments threading instantly into his spinal column. The man's eyes glazed over, his movements becoming jerky, puppet-like. He turned toward his screaming companion, hands reaching out not for help, but with a parasitic hunger.

He watched as more and more jellyfish breached the surface, raining down on the terrified crowd.

Lily smiled at the oversharing, she was a chatterbox, clearly but that was fine. Lily could talk to when she wanted to, though normally when she was nervous. She chuckled not interrupting the flow of words.

A Jedi.

She took a breath and let out a small sigh. Of course she’d find a Jedi when she sat teetering on the fence as to whether it was time to step in and on which side. If that wasn’t a sign then she didn’t know what was.

“You’re good.” she continued to talk and indicated her head so that the other Lily could join. “I could do with the company…and maybe a listening ear, saves me driving myself mad going round the same circles. It's kinda hard to work out where to start though…”

She trailed off, a frown creasing her head. “I was on Coruscant when the Covena-”

Lily stopped short, coming to a stop when a scream pierced the air. The whole beach seemed to take a collective breath before other screams erupted, people were scrambling back from the shore, feeling in the wake of…

“What the feth?!”

Lily watched as a man with a jellyfish clinging to his back swung its gaze towards them, lumbering with a slack jaw and hunger burning in its gaze.

“I cannot catch a break.”

Coruscant, Mooja and now Nahkisa? Maybe she had Velok’s curse? Maybe trouble was just going to find her no matter where she went. Movement in the water caught her eye as jellyfish launched themselves out of the water.

“Look out!” she shouted, shoving other Lily to the side and diving out of the way herself as gelatinous forms flopped onto the beach.

 

[Taera 'Calypso']

Tags: Lancel Atria

Lancel seemed panicked and not just about the mag-lock situation. Calypso placed a hand on her hip while he struggled with the durasteel door. If he had the strength to open the door on his own, she’d have been very impressed. Instead she sat back down, draping arms out to the side, and waited.

Eventually he rested his head against the door, looking more like a shell of himself than ever before. His own sigh sounded deflated and haggard.

Disappointing.

Where had the fire in Lancel gone?

Had the precious little flower snuffed it out? Or was it something else?

“If it were me, don’t you’d think I’d already be making demands?” she asked with a scoff. “No, this is some fool’s idea of a grand scheme.”

She made no attempt to hide her contempt for the hostage situation. She hadn’t lived on Epica, hadn’t married a fool from one of the Ten and learned to play their games, just to be played like this.

For now, she was content to sit in the heat and think through her options. Clothed and armed with only a robe, and Lance in a towel, their options were slim. She’d have to pull on the Force and that was something she didn’t really want to resort to as close as they were to High Republic space. They’d probably haul her off to the Jedi temple and ascetism didn’t agree with her.

“I’m sure someone will be along shortly to make their demands,” Calypso said. “Or to grovel. One of the two. Might as well enjoy the steam and relax.”

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

Her consciousness would allow momentary feelings of her reality. It started first with the ache in her bones, and then a violent tremor she could not suppress. Her breath also did not feel like her own, it was jagged and unreliable, clawing its way back into lungs that still remembered water.

Bastila drifted in this state at the seam between worlds, her awareness flickering like a short circuit. Around her the cave pressed in on her, cold hard stone at her back, the area thick with the scent of damp rock, she could feel Dominic’s hands at her arms forcing friction into muscle that resisted every command. His presence burned through the cold like a brand, it was brilliantly bright and unyielding in a slowly darkening world.

Stay. The word did not need to be spoken. It moved through her like a pulse.

But another world still held her and until it was done with her, he would have to wait.

– – – – –​

The corridor of absence had widened, and when she had finally given into the curiosity and stepped forward, just one slow and cautious step; the black had softened.

Light had started to bleed in slowly, it was warm and inviting, with no trace of the expected blinding presence among the dark. The obsidian surface beneath her feet shifted into polished stone veined with pale gold, the wet slick water stain fading away completely as if it had never truly been there. The air lost its edge and sound returned, sound that brought no wind or water but instead appeared as life.

She heard the Children laughing. They were close and they held no feeling of the abstract like these visions had a tendency to do. Around her the darkness dissolved fully.

She stood beneath the sweeping arches of a Naboo estate, it was familiar in design, she swore she had been there recently. Pale columns curving elegantly toward a high terrace open to the rolling green hills and shimmering lakes. Sunlight spilled across white stone and caught in climbing vines heavy with blue blossoms. The air smelled of warm grass and water rather than snow and ice. Yet there was no warmth in the sun, just an increasingly harsh chill.

She saw herself and Bastila for once in her life stopped still and silent.

She was older, not dramatically so, but clearly softened by time. Lines at the corners of her eyes carved by laughter rather than strain. Hair longer, braided loosely over one shoulder, threaded with a subtle silver that did not diminish her but deepened her. She wore no armor, there was no weapon at her belt, the constant tools of duty replaced with a calm that was foreign to her.

By the Force she looked like her mother.

Across the courtyard, A man stood near the fountain, sleeves rolled inelegantly to his forearms, coat abandoned on a stone bench. He was so instantly recognisable that her throat caught. Dominic, He was older too, he was steadier in posture, the sharp political edge feeling rounded into something more gentle. His smile held a warmness that she had never seen on him, like he had finally opened the locked box of release over himself. Yet it wasn’t he who held her gaze. For he held a small child aloft as though the galaxy had never demanded anything of him but that moment. The child was young, a girl with brilliant dark-hair and a face that she swore could be cast from a mirror of her younger-self.

She almost went to talk when another child, this one older, yet just as dark-haired ran between columns, shrieking with joy as the fox darted playfully at his heels.

The fox.

She knew that fox. It had the same luminous eyes, though here it looked entirely mundane, fur catching sunlight rather than emitting it. Yet this was Naboo and that fox did not belong here she thought.

Older Bastila laughed, in a song of sound that felt unburdened and she crossed the courtyard to take the younger child from Dominic’s arms. Their fingers brushed in passing as they smiled at each other, there was no hesitation. No fear of being caught off guard.

Just a certainty that allowed no tension between them. Almost as if there was no Senate. No war. No compromise carved from repeated heartbreak.

What did remain was partnership and a sense of belonging; she felt at home.

The older version of herself looked up then, not passed her but directly at her. There was no surprise in those eyes, only memory and almost a sense of strange pride that really made her feel uneasy on her feet.

Don’t dwell, Bastila.

The voice flowed through her head like a storm.

It was her own.

This isn’t what you are here to see.

The estate stretched behind them; lake waters shimmering beyond manicured terraces, Naboo sunlight gilding everything in quiet permanence. It was not a fantasy of grandeur, to Bastila it was a future of simplicity. A life chosen by two people who wanted to choose it. At her feet the fox chirped and ran between her legs.

– – – – –​

The vision fractured and the cold surged back like an avalanche.

Her body convulsed sharply in the cave. Breath tore into her chest as if she were surfacing again. Her fingers tightened instinctively in Dominic’s sleeve, clutching as though the vision might dissolve if she released him.

Her eyes fluttered open if only for a moment.

Reality swam into focus, darting around to take in the rough curve of stone overhead, the dim grey light at the cave mouth, Dominic’s face far too close and stripped of any practiced calm. Snow clung in his hair. His jaw trembled faintly from cold or fear, she could not tell which.

Bastila’s gaze searched his face as though confirming he was solid. Alive. Present.

“I saw…” Her voice broke, raw from cold and something deeper. She swallowed and tried again. “I saw...”

Her eyes unfocused, still half in sunlit courtyards.

“Older,” she whispered.

A faint, incredulous breath escaped her, it was almost a laugh, almost a sob. “You were losing to a four-year-old.” She added weakly.

The tremor returned, more violent now, dragging her fully back into the cave. The warmth of that other world bled away under the mountain’s merciless grip.

Her fingers tightened again and her eyes rolled to the back of her head as she slipped yet again. “Domin…”

Outside, the fox lowered its head slightly, as if acknowledging something had been chosen or perhaps delayed.

Inside the cave, Bastila’s breath continued to fall by degrees, but her eyes still carried sunlight that did not belong to Triuune. Her temperature was dropping rapidly and the reality that she might die in a cave would be settling in on the pair. Only she could not tell. She was no longer in the cave.

– – – – –​

The floor around her was dark and wet again as she sat up for what felt like yet another time today. “That’s weird.”

A chirping noise announced the arrival of the fox, his glowing eyes settling on her as it sat down right next to her this time. It offered no panic as her hand moved out to brush down it’s head and neck as she absently looked out at the never ending darkness.

“Well at least you're here to watch me go insane.” She offered with a smirk, lifting herself to her feet. “Because I have no idea what is going on.”

OUTFIT: XoXo | TAG: Dominic Praxon EQUIPMENT:

​

 

[Jared Starchaser]

He juked and jived the airspeeder. Jared did not care for what was going on. Reaching into the Force, he fell into an almost meditative trance as he piloted. Moving closer to the ground, the ship used the repulsors to keep from hitting the ground, but it also kept one side safe from the falling.

“Hold on.” Jared said as the Twi’lek nodded, like she was able to do anything else. Looking at the controls and then scanner. “Found one big enough.” He kicked the airspeeder into a small quarter roll and down one of the larger tunnels, into relative ‘safety’.

Getting in far enough just for cover, he brought it down for landing.

“This should cover us for now.”

Jared got on the comms. Plugging in an old Underground channel.

“Starchaser here. Looks like we got… falling ice?”

Bastila Sal-Soren Dominic Praxon Xandyr Carrick

 

[Kito]

//: Cerys Dyn //: Sethran Solivar //:

The harsh reaction from the woman was not expected. Though Kito should have been able to understand context clues. It was pretty obvious that the woman was in an uncomfortable situation, in a place that wasn't very fun to be in. Kito didn't know what to do next, the woman now drawing attention to things that the Ronin often ignored. Her eyes were trained for one person, she would have noticed these things on one person.

Yet now here she was, blushing, pursing her lips, and not knowing where to look.

"Well uh…" Kito didn't know anything. Her people skills were like a cactus's; she was uncomfortable with the closeness and the situation. Her feet remembered how to move, and she stepped back. Hands moved in front of her to keep the woman from drawing closer again.

"Just don't do it?" She whispered back. The thought and the concept made the most sense to her. Why continue doing something if you're uncomfortable or unhappy? A basic concept, and one that Kito didn't fully comprehend, was an issue. Stepping back, the padawan created a distance between her and the waitress.

The last thing she wanted in this scenario was to irritate the woman further. She did, though, let her eyes follow the woman's towards the patrons that eyed her like the biggest, juicest bantha steak they had ever seen. She thought quietly, made the Togruta someone she knew — and the anger flared.

If someone she cared about was put in this situation, Kito would stop it. The urge to reach out and grab the woman to drag her away was strong, but they didn't know each other… and her actions could be seen in line with the others. Chewing on her lip, Kito weighed her options and felt her face tighten, frowning.

"Want me to get rid of them?"

It came out more murderous than she intended, but she didn't correct herself. There were eyes on them, she could feel it in the back of her mind. Not only were they looking, but someone else was too.

 

[Dominic Praxon]

His heart thrummed inside his chest. Her was voice a sudden, jagged alarm in the dark. Fear, shame, and a stinging annoyance at his own exhaustion warred within him, but they all collapsed into a singular, desperate relief as he leaned over her.

Then, the silence returned. And with it, the cold.

Dominic tried to shift, but his right arm refused the command. It no longer like his. It was a heavy, frozen casing of meat and bone. "Bastila...stay with me," he croaked, shaking her with his good arm. His teeth clattered, a rhythmic, mocking sound in the quiet of the cave.

His mind drifted, a dangerous sign. He thought of the Black Sun attacks, the hospital waiting room, and the poll numbers he'd let slide just to be near her door. He had broken her heart to win an election, only to find the victory felt hollow when she wasn't there to challenge him.

"Gods...I am a miserable son of a queen," he muttered, hauling her into a clumsy, half-frozen embrace.

Her words echoed in the cave, something about a four-year-old. Him, losing. It was the nonsensical rambling of a dying mind, yet it stung. He pressed his lips to her frozen forehead, the skin marble-cold. "Just stay alive. There is someone out there...someone who will actually be good to you."

A low, rhythmic thrum vibrated through the stone, rattling the loose scree at the cave mouth. An avalanche? No, and not the wind.

"Hey!" The word caught in his raw throat, coming out as a breathless rasp. He didn't wait for his brain to catch up. His survival instinct took the lead. Engines.

"Help us! In here!" He shouted, his voice cracking under the strain. "She's dying! Help!"

Jared Starchaser Bastila Sal-Soren​

 

[Sethran Solivar]

Gyndine • Cerys Dyn and Kito ​

---

If he had known he was going to be taking unwarranted shots he would have stayed in his room. It was cooler and there weren't any others around to cause him trouble. Better yet, he wouldn't be watching a walking disaster of salaciousness set forth by an owner bent on making money through any and all means. Of course, unless she was a slave she probably didn't have to do what she was doing, so there was some ownership on her part in making the choice to accept the ill treatment she was receiving from her employer.

It was as he contemplated this that he felt something off. Well, more off than the situation in front of him considering most of the rest of the employees in the bar were of the mechanical variety. He could sense distress and fear from somewhere nearby. Not just that of a single individual, but several. He downed the rest of his water and set the cup on the bar behind him.

The problem wasn't going to resolve itself, as he continued to feel the sensation, and it was growing in urgency, so he left the bar and started making his way across the room towards the exit. Incidentally, this brought him into proximity with both the underdressed hostess and the woman she was talking with. Not by design, just by happenstance. And as he passed them, he let some quiet words pass from his lips.

"You shouldn't let your employer disrespect you like that."

It was all he said, and then he was moving on. He wasn't sure where he was going, not yet. All he was sure of was that someone needed help and he aimed to provide it.

---

 

[Cerys Dyn]

The girl was being nice, Cerys conceded. Not overly pushy, and even responding in a manner the Togruta had witnessed in many of her "first impressions". People didn't much care for her. She understood that, very well. Which made certain individual's persistence in befriending her all the more unusual, and annoying.

"Look. I need the money," Cerys said, leaning into a rushed, breathless whisper, "and I was either going to smell like garbage juice the rest of my shift...or squeeze into this...if you know a faster way off the planet than the weekly staff shuttle...let me know about it."

A confluence of emotions washed over her. Panic. Fear. Confusion. All about the complex. Cerys pulled away from the young woman, and her eyes began searching the room. It wasn't anyone in the room, but rather elsewhere.

"No...no...just leave him be," Cerys said, waving her hands at the girl in a flurry of hush hand gestures.

Then the almost-murdered man walked past, whispering to her about employer respect. She shot him a glance intended to silence him for his judgment — despite full agreeing with him. Instead, she noticed that he too had noticed the change in the resort.

"You feel it too?" She said to him, before shooting the girl a look with raised eyebrows the repetition of the question implicit in her expression.

"I can help!" Cerys said, waddling after the man, but also grabbing the girl by the wrist and pulling her along, "we can help!"

Sethran Solivar Kito​

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

The world tilted.

Darkness had returned around Bastila as she walked with the Fox. She had noticed that it didn’t feel like the endless void she had walked before, this one felt more closed. Compressed and weighted. The way the fox carried itself close to her feet made her realise that it wasn’t just her feeling the sensation.

The sound of the water at her feet gave way once more to that of shoes against stone. To her left a column slowly rose from the dark before it was joined by another, and another. Each one slowly reaching up into the darkness that gave way to the bright open sky.

She stood once again on polished ground, though now it was pale marble rather than black glass. Sunlight washed the space in soft gold, the kind that was always favoured by Naboo, it was warm and deceptively peaceful. The air smelled faintly of lake water and summer grass. It felt less like home and more like a memory this time. For a brief, fragile moment she thought she had returned to the estate she had seen before and she darted her eyes around for a glimpse of the family she had been made to endure like a hermit dreaming of companionship.

But something was wrong. The courtyard she found herself in was silent.

The vines that climbed the columns hung unmoving and heavy with white blossoms that had begun to brown at their edges. Banners of deep blue hung between the arches, each bearing the sigil of Naboo and the Republic Senate, replacing the familiar red and gold of Bastila’s memory. They stirred slightly in a breeze in a way that felt ceremonial and created rather than natural.

She turned her head and realised she was not alone, there were people filling the courtyard. Hundreds of them. Each one appearing like an explosion of matter done backwards.

Among them were Senators, scattered members of the Noble Families. Here and there Officers of the High Republic in immaculate dress uniforms that mirrored the colours of the banners around them. Citizens in carefully chosen mourning black, and Jedi. So many Jedi. They all stood in precise rows across the stone terraces, their voices hushed into reverent quiet.

She followed their stare, their eyes either looking dead at the floor or towards the centre of the courtyard where a raised platform stood in vigil. Upon it sat a white stone coffin, polished so clean it reflected the sky.

Words had been carved into it in the elegant script Naboo reserved for monuments.

Here lies Bastila Sal-Soren.

For a long moment she simply stared. Her mind struggled to comprehend the reality that was being placed before her. The fox chirped from beside her even though she knew it was no longer there.

Then she saw herself. Or rather, she saw the fox sitting on the shoulders of the statue that stood beside the coffin. The sculpted Bastila was young, heroic, robes flowing as though caught in some invisible wind. A lightsaber hilt rested at her side. Her chin was lifted toward the horizon with that idealized calm artists loved to give martyrs.

A single plaque of gold and silver beneath the statue read in shining detail:

When the Republic grew dark her light saved us all.

She could hear murmurs moving through the gathered crowd now, like the silence was broken by some event she could not see. She could hear words of praise, of reverence and of carefully curated grief all aimed towards the monument in the centre of the courtyard.

Bastila stepped forward slowly, though no one seemed to notice her presence among them. She passed senators she recognized. Commanders she had fought beside already. Some faces from distant battles and negotiations. Their expressions were solemn, their voices low and respectful.

“Her sacrifice saved everyone.”

“The Republic owes her everything.”

“In the end she was truly a Jedi of remarkable conviction.”

The words stacked neatly atop one another, polished and impersonal as the marble beneath her feet. None of the voices familiar enough to make her turn her head. Instead she just carried onwards until she reached the edge of the platform.

And then she saw him. Dominic. He stood near the front of the gathering.

Like the others he seemed broken yet not collapsing in grief. This was not the Dominic she had seem before, this Dominic seemed more hard edged.

The years had carved deeper lines into his face, yet he appeared younger than he had in the previous vision. His posture remained upright, senator-like even here, but the weight he carried now was visible in the tight set of his shoulders. He wore formal Naboo black, the gold trim of office dimmed for mourning.

Beside him stood another woman.

Graceful. Elegant. Her hand rested lightly against Dominic’s arm as if they had practiced the gesture many times before. Bastila’s heart did a beat as she realised this was a partner suitable for public life; someone composed and politically advantageous for Dominic’s rise to power.

This was a future.

Dominic’s expression remained controlled as another speaker praised Bastila’s sacrifice, but Bastila saw the fracture beneath it. His eyes lingered on the coffin longer than they should have.

The look there was not pride. It was one of quiet, unresolved need for closure. Of someone who had survived the wrong future. Of someone who longed for reality that sat in the worlds of dreams inwardly, but had to present a solidarity on the outward facing.

She felt something twist painfully in her chest.

“Another ending?” Bastila murmured softly to herself as she felt the Vash-fox appeared beside the platform just as luminous as before.

It sat calmly near the base of her statue, its blue eyes fixed not on the crowd but on her. Waiting patiently like it was watching the rustling of prey in the grass.

“Let me guess,” Bastila said quietly, folding her arms as she looked out across the sea of mourners praising the version of her that had died well enough for the Republic to drop everything to celebrate her actions. “This is the one where I make the correct heroic choice?”

No one in the courtyard heard her. The speaker’s voice carried across the gathering. “A symbol of courage. A martyr whose sacrifice will guide the Republic for generations.” Polite applause followed and Bastila looked back to Dominic.

The woman beside him spoke quietly into his ear, probably something reassuring. Something diplomatic.

He nodded and the corner of his mouth twisted into a little half smile. But his gaze had not left the coffin and the look on his face carried a grief so carefully hidden it almost hurt to witness.

The fox rose slowly and padded a few steps toward the far end of the courtyard toward the lake beyond the estate walls. It paused and looked back at her, before sitting with purpose clearly leading her towards the horizon.

Bastila remained standing beside her own monument where the weight of the choice hung between them again. Her eyes darted around looking for the familiar faces of her siblings, in the hope that they would give her answers yet they were not there, she found that odd, she did not sense their loss but it was a strange understanding that they could not be there for fate had already entwined them into her story no matter the path she took.

Behind her, somewhere impossibly distant yet fiercely present, the cold cave still existed. Dominic’s hands still held her there, refusing to surrender her to the cold of the mountain.

Ahead of her, the future stretched quiet and orderly, asking for a decision, presenting a legacy carved in stone.

She exhaled slowly.

“Not today,” she said and turned away from her own funeral.

OUTFIT: XoXo | TAG: Dominic Praxon Jared Starchaser EQUIPMENT:

​

 

[Raymjarr Kortu]

Current Outfit
Royal Standard (RS-29)







“Okay hurry!” Ray shouted at Bettany as she rushed to her room. His heart pounding as the beach shook around them. These giant jellyfish were hellbent on consuming everything they see. Where did they come from? How did they attack without warning? Didn’t this beach planet have top of the line detection underwater?

Worst part is that Ray couldn’t believe that Bettany would even choose change despite the fact that there were more of those things out there. This was just like in the horror holomovies where the protagonist decided to do something stupid like checking their holophones while being chased by a monster only to ripped alive. Not that Ray thinks that Bettany is stupid but man are her priorities skewed.

Ray gasped seeing a tentacle tearing through the wooden wall. A giant jellyfish dug its way to the house. A couple of blaster shots by Ray took it down, but more Jellyfish noticed the noise and the hole that was created. “I’m a little busy!” Ray shouted at Bettany stumbling towards the couch and grabbing the black bag from it.

The jellyfish swarmed through the hole as quick as a womprat. Ray fired more blaster bolts killing two and staggering one as he rushed towards Bettany. “Get to the speeder!” Ray shouted. “I’m right behind you!”

Bettany Sal-Soren