Campaign Beneath the Surface: A Hapes Struggle Story || The Foundation (Open to all Jedi and other Lightsiders)

[Rik Perris]

GALLINORE FORTRESS
GALLINORE, HAPES CLUSTER
​

Life as of late was a series of unending adjustments, and acclimation to a responsibility he'd waited longer than most to take up - he was going to have to start inflicting OJT - on-the-job training - on his new, young padawan sooner or later. He knew there was no way it could be otherwise, if Ceri Fraissi was his pupil, not with his being an active agent.

Rik had known on the day of the Foundation’s first operation on Hapes itself, that it would not be over so quickly. Transitions of power could be violent and prolonged, but the vacuum left in the wake of the Queen Mother’s death wasn’t all that was inflicted on the Hapan people.

All they had suffered, and were going to suffer in reckoning with their way of life, was an eventuality, made present by the insidious disease of legislated assimilation. If not for that, the Veil might not have been so emboldened, and Briana Sal-Soren might not have lost when she had already lost so much.

Her pain was just another thing tacked on to his multitude of reasons for joining the cause, such that when Askani had tapped him along with Vastor and a newer addition to their number - a monkish man who called himself Altan - for back-up, there was no refusing it. When directed to inconspicuously prepare for an attempt on the would-be queen’s life, there was little preparation Rik himself needed to do; evading recognition of his status as a Jedi was a tactic he commonly employed.

It was easy when he hadn’t worn robes in years, anyway, and variably had knives and/or a pistol or two on his person when on missions, in addition to his lightsaber, which in this instance was holstered at the small of his back, underneath his jacket. When he’d entered the room where the would-be monarch was hidden, he took up position behind and to the right of Askani, and after a short bow, straightened back up and folded his arms over his chest.

"Your Majesty..."

Askani wasted little time in starting the talks.

"What is it?" Nimaa’ri replied, only to be met with the sounds of commotion from the passageway, which drew the attention of Rik’s Force-given senses, first, just before the noise started up. "Can't you see we are under attack?" The last of Daaray hissed, "We must evacuate at once. There is a hidden passage in this room leading through the mountains—"

Rik unfolded his arms, just a scant moment before the door buckled and exploded inward, a haze of destruction from which the leader of the Crimson Veil emerged. The Corellian’s hands hovered at his sides, primed for a quick draw of either or both of the slugthrowers holstered at each hip, as his deep brown eyes settled on the terroristic, armoured Hapan and the disruptor rifle in his hands... recognised for what it was.

[ Well, shit. ]

His thoughts soured a little more. That altered the field a bit.

Mother Askani • Tyrus Vastor • Veythun • Kalen​

 

[Yuri Maji]

GALLINORE | DIMITOR
ALLIES: FOUNDATION | Caltin Vanagor | Lorn Reingard | Aela Keersu
ENEMIES: N/A
ENGAGING: N/A
GEAR: In bio

SHORT CHANGE HERO​

The woman was first to acknowledge him, introducing herself as well as her friend before making a remark about his armour. ”Yuri Maji. And yeah… we’ll see if it’s a good thing.” He commented. Aela was quick to issue some orders and Yuri responded with a two-finger salute.

He was about to step out when the commotion at the front of the protest seemed to worsen. A fire bomb was intercepted and another man was dealt with by the big guy, earning a snicker from Yuri as the troublemaker was hoisted up and dispensed by the cops for arrest. ”I’m headin’ out.” He tapped a few buttons on his vambrace and sent them his commlink details. ”If someone lays a hand on the store, ping me.” He checked his pistols and stepped out of the store, closing the door behind him.

He had a target to track down. He could barely see the man in the jumpsuit from where he was, but a quick glance at the roof would provide a solution. He stepped into an alley and jumped onto the roof with the help of his jetpack, allowing him a perfect view of the chaos below.

The situation was deteriorating quickly, with protesters growing more uneasy and police fidgeting more on their side. In the midst of it all, he could see more people in need of help. An old lady shouting at people from the sideline, a young boy taking advantage of the commotion to pick the pockets of protestors. :: Aela, Lorn, sendin’ you more people for safekeeping. :: He called over the comms before jumping off the roof.

First was the problem child. A firm grip on the back of his neck and the sight of an armoured figure served to bring him to heel very quickly. After that it was the angry old lady. After a few angry words back and forth, he managed to turn her bad temper onto the child beside him and escort the two back to the bookstore. The first to enter was the boy, ushered in with a smack on the head and a pinch on his ear by the old lady. Finally Yuri entered with a toothy grin behind his visor as he watched the spectacle. ”Situation’s growin’ problematic out there. Big guy outside’s tryin’ to keep a lid on it.” He warned Aela as he prepared to go outside again, this time making sure the kid didn’t try to steal from him. ”Watch the boy, he’s got sticky fingers.” He said as he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

Rinse and repeat, remove bystanders and make sure the firing line was clean. Just in case things turned hot.

 

[Mother Askani]

GALLINORE FORTRESS | OBJ. 2
Rik Perris | Kalen | Tyrus Vastor | Makai Dashiell | Veythun | Altan

​

When she walked in, the Grand Hall is a battlefield of words.

On one side of the table: Fendrik Hale, a labor representative was present on behalf of Orron, the man who had been organizing and leading the miners strike. His gaze burned with a purpose. Other labor and guild reps, and striking technicians stood beside him, some reluctant, others emboldened by their growing movement.

On the other side: Planetary Overseers, regal and severe, speaking for the Crown. Lady Maris Vael, a high-ranking noble, keeps her tone sharp:

“Negotiation cannot take place while the streets burn.”

Fendrik didn't flinch, he slammed his fists on the table. “The streets burn because we were never given another option.”

"What is it?" Nimaa'ri asked, only to pause. Your Majesty was an address reserved for the Queen Mother. If this stranger was calling her that, it must mean that her sister was well and truly gone, if not overthrown then dead. Something in her gut told her it was the latter. Kha'la Daaray would never be removed from the throne without a fight.

She could tell on her face that the use of the honorific was the news reaching her—the Queen Mother may be deposed; and if that happened, the weight of the Hapes Consortium would fall on her shoulders.

She started "It's time to-" though just on the edge of her perception she could fill the air go empyreal-ly solid, like a synapse firing off. There was a build up in the Force that was just near an overflow.

"Can't you see we are under attack?" Nimaa'ri hissed. "We must evacuate at once. There is a hidden passage in this room leading through the mountains—"

She reached out for the girl, Askani's eyes burning with conviction. "Wait! If you leave now, Gallinore will descend further into Chaos. This moment decides the future of your people. If you run now, you abandon them...and that's not you is it? The Crimson Veil won't stop coming after you, you're the hope for the entire Cluster. This is your moment...to take a stand. Please. Stay. We won't let any harm come to you."

The choice was hers of course, one could see her instincts screaming to run. But, in that moment, Gallinore's fate hangs in the balance.

Then the well in the Force had overflowed, suddenly, the doors exploded inward open. Silhouettes of figures stormed inside like shadows, blasters raised. The Crimson Veil has arrived. And before anyone else can move, Askani stepped in the line of sight, cutting off the Princess and negotiators.

As if caught in slow motion, Askani raises her hands—palms open, a universal sign of peace.

Her voice is firm but calm. Steady. "Wait...please." The air itself seems to hold its breath.

"For the first time in centuries, parties who once would have gutted each other without a word are speaking. There's dialogue..." she said.

Her outstretched hands gesture subtly toward the Hapan Overseers and the labor representatives— "If you kill her—" She inclines her chin toward Nimaa'ri (if she was still there). "If you cut down what remains of the monarchy tonight—what does it accomplish? Where's the honor in that? Victories like that may be quick sure, but change, real change is slow. You are smart, and you must know that you can't get exactly what you want this way, without making yourself appear the same as those you intend to push out."

"You don't need my permission to tear this system down—No," Askani's voice never wavering. "But if you do this, you will prove to the galaxy that they were right to fear you, and discard you. You will justify every execution, every massacre they have committed against you."

-----

"What have I sacrificed? Everything..."
​

 

[Kalen]

Upon entering the room, Kalen and his men were met not with a cowering princess, but by an old woman, three men, and a giant jellyfish. Despite the crone's attempts at convincing her to stay, Nimaa'ri had vanished through the secret passageway with her guards, who were determined to ensure her survival above all else. Kalen's quarry had escaped.

His gaze swept over the strange gathering, his mouth set in a firm line. Was this a trap? Had they lured him here to kill him?

Yes, he concluded, even as the old hag pleaded for peace.

"Wait...please."

"For the first time in centuries, parties who once would have gutted each other without a word are speaking. There's dialogue..."

"If you kill her—If you cut down what remains of the monarchy tonight—what does it accomplish? Where's the honor in that? Victories like that may be quick sure, but change, real change is slow. You are smart, and you must know that you can't get exactly what you want this way, without making yourself appear the same as those you intend to push out."

"You don't need my permission to tear this system down—No. But if you do this, you will prove to the galaxy that they were right to fear you, and discard you. You will justify every execution, every massacre they have committed against you."

Kalen glared at her... then bit his lip in a vain effort to hide his smirk. "You sound just like my mother," he said. "'Don't prove them right,' she always told me. Don't fight back, because that makes you an animal in their eyes. They'll twist your words and actions around, manipulate the truth, turn you into a monster. They'll be the ones who cry out in pain as they strike you..."

As he spoke, he advanced toward her until he had to angle his head down to meet her eyes. "It's a nice sentiment, diplomacy and dialogue. But the problem is, everyone involved in this conflict is already soaked in blood. We're all savages, all barbarians. And you know what?" He raised his disruptor, pointing it at her face. "I like it that way."

Mother Askani Tyrus Vastor Rik Perris Altan Veythun​

 

[Veythun]

If he knew how the terrorist mentally referred to him he might have been insulted. Jellyfish lived in water, not gas. Such primitive creatures! But alas, he did not, he merely knew that this was the person whom had attacked outside and was responsible now for barging in with the intent of killing the young queen. The young queen who fled. Cowardice. Didn't know that was a Hapan trait, he thought to himself before focusing his attention back on the terrorist and Mother Askani. The former seemed inclined to disintegrate the latter. Rather rude, really.

/Yes yes, we're all bloody, except for me because I can't survive outside of this tank,/ he said, a tentacle flipping around rather flippantly. /You sound like every supposed freedom fighter to ever freedom fight. 'Oh they're the bad guy. They're so evil. Look what they've done to us.' You think murdering people is going to make others like you. That's lunacy./

Seriously. They fought, they killed, one regime replaced another, that regime did the same thing as the previous, just in a different way. Everyone was evil when it came down to it. Even the Jedi weren't without their faults. Heck, look at the mess the New Jedi Order made when they'd tried to resolve things! The Queen murdered by one of them, others killing numerous Hapans. They went to war, they didn't come to resolve anything. They wanted to spill blood just as much as the next person. It wasn't about freedom with them.

To be fair, even he was slightly evil. He had no qualms with killing those who needed to be killed. Who was he to believe that everyone in the galaxy to live in harmony? The entire history of the galaxy was full of bloodshed and war. It was impossible for people to coexist in peace and the sooner people recognized that, the better. That being said, murdering an entire line of people under the misguided pretense it would bring peace just wasn't acceptable to him.

/You're no different from the people you're killing. Just the opposite side of the coin. They're misandrists and you're misogynists./

But he wasn't about to let him fire his weapon on Mother Askani, oh no. A little demonstration of power? Sure, why not. Something that might convince the man it might be in his best interest not to test the people in the room with him. This wasn't the NJO he was dealing with, after all. So that disruptor in his hand? He might feel parts of it start to move as Veythun reached out with his telepathic abilities in effort to break it apart in the same manner it had been put together. No explosion of parts, no violent ripping, just bolts and screws and plates and other things pulling apart.

---

TAGS: Rik Perris | Kalen | Mother Askani | Altan | Tyrus Vastor ​

 

[Rik Perris]

GALLINORE FORTRESS
GALLINORE, HAPES CLUSTER
INNER RIM
​

Rik knew Askani was right, if only for the cold fact that he had seen this kind of thing play out over and over again. The overthrowing of the oppressor was a noble cause, but it was only the first step. There would be no complete undoing of eons of their way of life, their culture. He understood the need for such extreme actions as the Veil took when thousands of years of oppression had probably been maintained by eradicating lesser degrees of dissent, and the Hapans were far from the first to be at this juncture, and subjected to such enforcement. To have tried other, less destructive means.

That didn’t mean he condoned it. That didn’t make it right. Just... sometimes necessary.

Wherever the future of the Hapans was to be, nobody in this room - save for the Celegian, perhaps - was likely to live to see it come to pass. That was the pace of change at this scale, but this figure of the Veil was hardly interested in the future, throwing away a chance to have his voice added to the shaping of things to come. This one appeared content to be an animal.

When the disruptor was pointed square at Askani’s face, a shadow fell over one side of the would-be assassin at the same moment. Rik and the Enforcer he levelled at the man, which was entrusted to Rik by the late Morellian mentor he’d had in his early years as a wayseeker, and not the heaviest weapon the Corellian owned and used. The bogan-busting light shotgun sometimes holstered on the back of his armour - which he wasn't wearing, here - delivered more recoil than even this slugthrower. Strangely.

“She’s right, but seeing as you don't give a shit--"

Belabouring the point wouldn't change this Hapan’s tune, particularly not as it came from a woman, he figured. Never mind that someone was now picking the disruptor apart telekinetically, despite their orders going into this to remain inconspicuous. To not give the Hapans the idea that the Jedi were involved. What was done was done. A click sounded as the safety on the Enforcer was disengaged.

“--stand down. I won't ask twice."

Or they could put him down, spare others from the brand of violence he dished out. This was only one extremist dissenter, with many others more moderate in their actions and demands. One of them had to be willing to negotiate.

Mother Askani • Tyrus Vastor • Veythun • Altan • Kalen​

 

[Altan]

|| THE GALLINORE ACCORDS ||
The Ashen Sun - Chapter 1

OUTFIT: x
TAG: Kalen | Mother Askani | Rik Perris | Tyrus Vastor | Veythun

Spoiler: THEME

GALLINORE, HAPES CLUSTER

There’s no hope in trying to negotiate with this man. He’s simply that, an extremist who wishes to depose the tyrants only to replace them himself. His existence, his ideals, they are cancer within the revolution, destined to cannibalize it from the inside. And the only way to preserve the movement is to kill it before it spreads too far.

This is exactly why Altan has been experimenting on himself to severe the Force from his body; he can’t afford compromising a descent to the dark side while doing what is necessary for the movement. The best he can do is keep a track of this man and his band of zealots until the time comes.

Altan was proven right when however Mother Askani tried to plead, this man stand on his conviction. He even showed his true color; a regressive, reactionary barbarian who’s only using the word freedom for his own personal benefit. But nothing beats the sacrilegious action he took, pointing his Disruptor at Mother Askani.

As Veythun took apart Kalen ’s Disruptor, completely ignoring the instructions to not display any action that would alert the Hapans of Jedi in their Cluster, Altan had to take a quick decision. He dashed towards Kalen with just his natural athleticism, focusing on channeling the Force throughout his body to his palm when his feet is planted back in the ground, and hit Kalen with an open-palm strike, a signature of the Wayseekers of Hoylin.​

​