Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Are You Coming to the Tree? || Rebellion on Artesia


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-|| Location: Artesia, GA/NEO DMZ
-|| Tags: Aela Keersu Aela Keersu | Cortana Jade Cortana Jade
-|| Theme: The Hanging Tree

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Can you smell that, son?” Casca’s father asked. He’d been dead for nearly a decade now, but the old man’s voice was still plain as day in Casca’s mind. Tough, gravelly, weathered by a long life lived in fear. Casca remembered looking up at his father. He had to crane his neck to see the man’s face. “That’s the smell of freedom,” he said.

It smells like smoke,” a much younger Casca replied. He must have been 10 or 11 then, on the day he went with his father to the city square. The ashes had long since disappeared from the air, blanketing the streets in a thin sheet of grey. His father nodded.

Sometimes, freedom needs a spark.


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Casca blinked back to the reality that was unfolding around him. A Gran, he thought, had bumped into him unapologetically as he pushed his way forward through the crowd. Chants filled the air, flying alongside protest banners that read “NO MORE” in crimson letters. Two simple words that were worth millions. They carried the collective anger of not only the people of Artesia, but the people of many worlds just like it. The state of things was no longer viable, and the people have had enough.

The Corellian shuffled forward along a stream of more passive protesters, inching towards the front of the demonstration slowly but surely. He pulled a hand from beneath his mottled poncho and placed a finger to the comlink in his ear.

This is Pryce,” he said. “I’m getting closer, but not fast enough. Something’s happening up ahead.” The crowd’s voices were never unified, but they hadn’t seemed panicked, either. There was a shift in tone, a change in the air. Fear weaved its way through them like a viper through a warren. It was a low thudding sound that had stirred them. Casca thought it was the rumblings of an evening thunderstorm on the horizon, but as it drew closer, he realized it was of a more nefarious nature: boots.

Riot troopers had arrived.

In these moments, even something as subtle as a twitch could set off a domino effect that would change the course of history. These things took poise and uniformity, but those were rare ingredients when the beginnings of rebellion were brewing. Oftentimes, even when they were there, it made little difference; “sometimes, freedom needs a spark.


It was a young woman who made the first move. She clutched an effigy of Artesia’s president in one hand and a lighter in the other. Discouraged by few but egged on by more, she held the effigy’s head to the open flame and let it catch fire. She threw it, sending it like a comet through the atmosphere overhead and into the gathered riot police.

It was the last straw, the act of violence they needed to end this entire thing. The spark.

The chilling thunk of a grenade launcher echoed in the distance, followed by another, then another. Streaks of caustic gas flew overhead. Screams and shouts erupted and the crowd lurched forward, throwing itself against riot shields.

We’ve got to move, now!” Casca said. He needed to get clear of the crowd and regroup with Cortana Jade Cortana Jade and Aela Keersu Aela Keersu before things got even worse. He’d take anyone else he could with him.


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STARDUST
GRAND CONCOURSE | ARTESIA
TAG: Casca Pryce Casca Pryce | Cortana Jade Cortana Jade

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TICKING BOMB

Things happened quickly.

With the pamphlet pried from a dead mother's grip, Aela had found her way to the Djo estate in Ta'a Chume'Dan, a fire burning within her from outrage at the Alliance's management of a member world's problems that can have Galactic implications. It didn't take long for her to get integrated and get directed to Artesia with some of the Jedi.

Aela didn't mind. Anything to actually make a difference.

The throng of people in the Concourse was something to behold. Her green eyes scanned the protest banners moving past her where she and Cortana were watching the spectacle, and realised these people were almost angry. Crying for justice in a Galaxy that wouldn't listen. The Corellian chewed her lip as her father's rants and talks drifted through her mind. One of them hooked fast.
"It will all come to a head one day, I tell you, and all this stagnation and bureaucracy will be burnt away. Folk will realise they can stand on their own feet and challenge a corrupt system. All it takes is a spark and the bomb will explode."

She did not understand it then, but she could see it now.

With the chants rising ever louder, Aela realised her father was right.

This is Pryce,” he said. “I’m getting closer, but not fast enough. Something’s happening up ahead.
The Jedi's voice in her ear snapped her out of memory lane and the Corellian realised that all these people together were a powderkeg waiting to blow. Moss-clad eyes darted around in panic.
<Stay sharp, Pryce. I have a bad feeling.> she told him before looking at Cortana. "We need to start herding folk to safety here in the back." she said. "This won't go uncontested."

Then she heard marching boots.

The ex-GADF trooper knew that sound very well. She'd done enough inspection assemblies, drills and parades to pick that sound out anywhere. She was moving just as the first gas grenade was thrown into the front crowd.
We’ve got to move, now!
<Grab what people or kids you can. We'll meet at the monolith!> Aela said as she started coaxing the younger generation out of the crowd. "Go to that blonde lady over there - she'll get you out." she told them before trying to shepherd some of the people away from engaging in the mess in the front.

The last thing they needed was another Hapes.

 
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SLAVE TO THE EMPIRE: FURY
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Location: Artesia | Casca Pryce Casca Pryce & Aela Keersu Aela Keersu

She was there, physically, but she was merely a shell of herself; she had mentally retreated so far within...that it felt like her memories and the realities of this world had merged. The screaming triggered something...the warmth of fire, amplified by shredded durasteal. There was smell of ozone, and the air had been electrically charged...and she could feel the physical toll of being snatched up and thrown around --

Snap!

A man about her height had lost this footing and fell, the vibration of his fall bringing her mind current with her body, like summoning back an astral projection of some kind. That hadn't stopped him, he was pulled back to his feet and her merged back into the crowd that made this Concourse their stomping grounds.

She found the Foundation during the Mandalorian's invasion of Naboo, sliding in during the crisis as a volunteer -- Then...she assimilated, falling in line without going through the proper channels to officially join; they seemed to welcome any help they could get.

Since then, things moved fast. She heard about the ongoing situation in the Cluster -- she hadn't been been home in awhile, and even missed the wedding. However, she never expected it'd devolve into such a level of chaos. Her mind drifted to her cousin Eline Djo Eline Djo and she very well thought Hapes would be her next assignment with the Foundation, but the teams were split -- she was sent to Artesia with other.

These were the broader implications, the effects of a choice upon a choice upon a choice...it was just now boiling over. The galaxy was crying out for something...They had their assignment however.

And at this point, she knew Morath would have his way.

She heard the comm spurt out in a sudden stream. She glanced over at Aela.

"And where exactly are we going to herd all of these people?" She threw her arms up in contest.

She heard the launcher, and then from her cornea, she saw a white plume burst into the air and sprawl out in a cloud that just sat over the crowd; she automatically knew that that was a sign of escalation, backed up by the sudden inflection in their voices over the comm. She cowered into a duck, pushing her face into her, expecting more projectiles, but she snapped back up when she got the pacing of things down.

She wove her hand, the lights reflecting against the sleek surface of, directing those able to snap out of their aggression to move. "Move! This way!"

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