Dominion Blood and Thunder | NIO Dominion of Glee Anselm

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
BYOO | RAVRAA VYSHRAAL, MOFF OF SHILI
E C H O E S
Ravraa Vyshraal

Irveric knew better than to take that crude accent at face value. Though his voice had long been tempered with Imperial finery, it did not start this way. Dantooine and its golden fields, its several towns and settlments well below the poverty line began his life with a far harsher inflection.

"I understand, truly. I was born on Dantooine but...I don't know if going back would make any difference at all. There's a degree of familiarity, it was where I was born, raised...but I was ripped from the comfort that comes with life undisturbed. There was only so bad or so good things could get, growing up places like here or Dantooine. But there was a stability to familiarization." Irveric mused aloud.

"Unfortunately, the Galaxy seldom only has that in store. For me...for you, for anyone. In this case, certainly not for Shili, for the Togruta.” Tavlar says, nearly calling them his people though hesitates as if they’d set them apart by any measure. They were Imperials now, they were Tavlar’s countrymen and women as much as they were Ravraa’s.

“To be fully transparent, there was a summit between the New Imperial Order and the Galactic Alliance to decide the path this world would take, it ended not hours before you arrived.” Tavlar explains before they step into a lift, descending into an office belonging to the would be governor of Shili.

It certainly couldn’t strand up to what could be expected in Prefsbelt, Bastion or Nirauan but it has all the utilities to manage as a center point of command for Ravraa in addition to whatever the New Imperial Order might provide to him.

“In short, the New Imperial Order is not leaving Shili...because it’s fate can be trusted in no better hands than a Togruta himself.“ Tavlar turns to face Ravraa again, the weary gaze shifting to his.

“By my authority, you are Moff and governor of Shili along with its surrounding designated province.” Tavlar states outright.

“I know you are not ready for this...but neither was I. The 501st will remain here until the fighting stops, they will adopt whatever rules of engagement you see fit. They're Imperial now. Thus, they're my people as much as they are yours and their safety, their wellbeing...all of it, is in my interests and my aim. Do not hesitate in seeking any wisdom, guidance or outright assistance I am able to offer to you, Ravraa. I understand this obligation...is a heavy one, but I have chosen you because you are a hero of our Order, our Empire. And the Togruta need a man like you to lead them, even if you had seen the Galaxy aflame before you too long to be able to call this 'home' in comfort, they will listen to you." Tavlar says, his tone and inflection as weary as it is serious.

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I
pool party, banditfighting, pool party
g a n g s t a ' s _ p a r a d i se
​

"Hey, gangsta, where do you think you're going?" a streets-belonging blonde with clear aversion to clothing slid a finger across Tavius' visor playfully.

Arno's attention, naturally, flicked back from the fleeing away figure to the succubus in their way. Surely he was no man of surprise, nor shock but even his eyes widened at the sight. Has to be genetically engineered.

"How about you take that gear off?" she gave him the most obvious looks in the history of men. The cocktail in her hand boiled.

"W-" Arno started but was immediately cut off.

"Shush, shush." she commanded without taking her eyes of her prize.

The commando pursed his lips, rolled his eyes and relived mentally his experience at Come Right Inn where he felt actually wanted.
Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

OBJ 1

Tavius in his sprinting couldn't run at his fastest speed - not in the sand. He slipped and slid, and by the time he managed to gather himself again, a blonde that he hadn't noticed had approached him.

In those moments, Tavius remained silent.

Slowly, he'd give a look to Sinestra .

Even through the silence in their comms, from the way his helmet tilted, Tavius knew where the mans mind had gone.

She was definitely unnatural. Probably not even real based off his knowledge on Sith tricks. He reached a hand up to the womans head, sinking his fingers into her bright locks and yanked, tearing the weave off with little effort. And in surprise, the woman transformed into a large, gray mass of differing proportions.

No longer was she beautiful.

It was a Sith trap.

His fist swung up and socked the alien in the mouth, or what looked to be it anyway.

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I
pool party, banditfighting, pool party
g a n g s t a ' s _ p a r a d i se
​

Blue balls took a whole new meaning after the veiled was removed. The malformed monster wheezed in pain as the armed gauntlet struck it. In a matter of moments the beach party twirled in a vortex defying reality before it revealed its true self - a cabal of deformed, mindless nightmares all headed straight towards the two commandos to sate their appetite.

Anyway, Arno started blastin'.

With his fists, that is. The harpoon gun was no longer a viable option.

But the enemy were far too many and began overwhelming the two.

"You got any trumps up your sleeve?!" Arno growled while trying to fend off a gnawing mouth.
Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

obj 1

Unlike Arno, Tavius was going to use whatever he had at his disposal.

The first creature was already unconscious on the ground. His harpoon rifle raising at another, larger beast before releasing. The harpoon flung out, impaling the beast less than ten metres away from them. The rope went taut as Sinestra called out to him.

"What, you forget your utility belt again?"

Reaching to the stun baton at his hip, it came free from his belt, but before he could toss it over, he was yanked forwards by the harpoon-impaled creature, quickly being dragged away from his partner.

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I
pool party, banditfighting, pool party
g a n g s t a ' s _ p a r a d i se
​

"What?!" Arno shouted through gritting teeth as he fought off a pile of beasts. He couldn't hear a damn thing his partner was saying as he was dragged away by a sithspawn.

"Can you repea-" he started but accidentally fired his harpoon gun at Tavius striking him in the leg. Arno hesitated for a moment on what to do before he yanked Tavius back from his assailant.

He kept pulling even as sithspawn jumped all over him.
Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

OBJ 1
Sinestra

He struggled violently as he clenched the harpoon rifle, the thought of releasing the weapon not once occurring to him.

Dragged further and further, the rifles strap was wrapped around him anyway, so that when the rifle did involuntarily slip out of his grasp, he had to shoot a hand up at his throat to catch it before it could slip underneath his helmet and strangle him.

Spotting the vibroknuckler knife partially exposed out of his gauntlet, he reached up to the strap.

But instead of cutting the strap, he let out a bloodcurdling scream when the harpoon pierced his calf, protruding from the other side as Arno began dragging him back, a wildly flailing hand sawing right through the strap and unslinging him from the rifle as Arno dragged him back.

"What the f-!"

 

[Ravraa Vyshraal]

homecoming

BYOO | RAVRAA VYSHRAAL, MOFF OF SHILI

New Imperial Order

Irveric Tavlar

​

It was otherworldly, to watch the Imperator of the New Imperial Order take the stumbling, off placed, mutterings he so nervously rattled off to him. He took each word the Togruta said it seemed, and actually engaged him. Ravraa wouldn’t have expected less, honestly. However, when you’ve spent most of your days watching someone’s face on holoscreens, it’s an odd situation when you are allowed to give it stimulus to respond to. Almost like meeting a star of a film, though, Ravraa’s stomach was sinking much lower. Why did it make him uncomfortable to be this close to the man? Was the fact he could devastate everything if he wanted? Was it the sheer power he held with his voice, the fact that voice was now directed at Ravraa personally?

It had to be.

Power was everything.

There were bits he was familiar with. Dantooine? He was certain he read that somewhere, perhaps. He wasn’t sure. It sounded right regardless. Nearly Galactic neighbors. While Rav was helping make dinner as a kid, the Imperator was not a stone throws away.

The hammer fell.

Moffdom.

Pretty words and well spoken narration couldn’t do justice to how Ravraa felt in that moment. Fainting occurred to him, but he stood tall. Talking his way from it, maybe, but no words came to mind. It was a simple and blunt statement about his future.

The son of a spacer, the wrong man in the right place, the squadcommand for Dorn-2.

A moff.

He wanted to be kind, and recognize the full conversation that the Imperator was pushing his direction, but the single statement held heavily enough for Ravraa to wish Jeresan was here to bum a smoke off of. Eyes glazed, if only for a moment. He wasn’t that scared boy from basic anymore.

“You know…”

“I’ve been handed plenty of commendations, awards, what have you. Nev’r know what to say, what’s all proper to be reacting with. When I was told I was the fireteam lead for Dorn-2, I just stared past the man, his voice went to nothing. Couldn’t help but notice the color of the wall,”

Ravraa looked down at his feet, his hands coming in front of his vision before he laced his own fingers together, weakly swinging his arms up to bap the fist against his own chest. One of the small nervous ticks someone would do when they were certain no one was looking, idle, space filling.

“And the first time I chat with you proper, yall come swaggerin’ and tellin’ me in the damned top brass of my whole ‘omeworld.”

He just shook his head. He wanted to tell the man to go to Hell, he wanted to thank him, but most of all, he knew he had to deal with the questions, the worried, the new direction his life would shift.

“I ain’t no politician, I won’t do no good in the senate. I’m not quiet, don’t like sittin’ still… I can learn. What of my squad, Imperator? Dormyle, Haupont, all them? Sweet on the sniper, ‘Perator, Jeresan. Planned on settlin’ down, getting a place here after all the damned fightin' was done. Bit of a life shift, ain’t it?”

Stress, worry, and pure emotion rolled from his lips. He was speaking to the Imperator, no more as if he was a ruler of a rogue state on the edge of the galaxy, but like a friend, like a father who had made a ruling their son wasn’t happy with.

He called him a hero? Would a hero be selfish about his life? Where was that man that charged Bastion for the folks back home?

Ravraa didn’t know. Why was he coddling life questions at a man who had seen it all?

What was one Imperator to a Togruta anyways.

 

[Trajan Fett]

S U P E R C O M M A N D O
THE OATHSWORN
SONS OF MANDALORE
BYOO | NEW IMPERIAL MEDICAL STATION
Caeos Prahl

​

He couldn't help but nod in acceptance to her thanks, even if the gesture was a simple one at most. A show of solidarity. Though the Sons were not so rigidly adherent to the Way of the Mandalore, it was a creed that grew more attractive the longer they'd been in exile from the homeland. As if an act of penance, while the unworthy own those cursed lands, they don the armor, ready to crusade. Even if their role had been subverted into the role of the Supercommando. An honorable combatant and one highly looked upon by the Mandalorian sub-culture which had been cultivated on Echoy'la, but it was not the Crusader.

Regardless, in this moment, the young Kurze shared in her pain in the hopes of lightening the blow, sharing a genuine smile between the two that wasn't shrouded by the Beskar steel.

"All of what could be eaten, we just gave to them. The skull is gonna be sent off to Echoy'la mounted as a trophy. The...pelt, I think the same...gonna be used for a cloak or something." Volker offered.

"It's yours I guess, if you want it. I don't mind. They say...they say when you're good to leave?" He inquired, arching a brow.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
BYOO | FORTUNATE SON
B R E A T H E
Ravraa Vyshraal

Whatever emotional confliction Ravraa worked through, trying to lay it out before himself with a jostled sentiment to the Imperator, he understood. Slowly rounding toward the glasteel observation window, Irveric nodded with arms crossed over his chest. The stress and confusion permeated to him as well, not as if he wasn't feeling a flavor of it his own in spades.

"No one is built for this, its an unnatural demand. No sane man or woman desires this sort of power and command. You certainly didn't...and that is why I trust you with it." Tavlar stated outright. It would've been a strange task to say he didn't desire his own position, being as he created it. But he was denied his choice very early on.

"The first question is of your unit...that is the stuff of those who can see through real change. Because your mind is not addled with the climb, the throat cutting and scheming to get to the top...you're free of that malfeasance. Your position as Sergeant, Captain...Moff, was never to impress those above you, it was never to appeal to those with power for more of it. It was for the people at your right and left of you. The people that helped you survive at all." He says, his gaze shifting back in the direction of the Togruta.

"It's not life service...for them, for anyone within our armed forces. They've all done their service to our Empire, if they see fit to retire they may do so. All the same...even if you...and the rest of them are perhaps not bred for this arena, you trust them. They trust you. It would be in your best interests to keep them close." Tavlar suggests, producing a cigar from a small metal box in his Imperator fatigue, his field grey and black none too different than what would be expected of Ravraa in a formal occasion, only with the crimson trimming of the Stormtrooper Corps replaced with the silver befit of the Sovereign Imperator.

"They are after all, your unit." He says, taking a draw from his cigar.

 

[Djorn Bline]

S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
GLEE ANSELM
AQUA DEMENTIA
FOCUS | Var Koon | Jaeger Harrsk | Lucien Dooku | Karlist Rax | Tyrell Paxxus | Halketh

​

Just as expected.

Someone spoke out against Djorn’s eagerness of recruiting these prisoners into COMPNOR. One that came from the form of Admiral Var, an officer that seemed to be close to the Imperator. Probably just fellow colleagues, having a professional relationship and nothing more than that. The Boss wasn’t here, leaving it to Admiral Var to represent the man in these affairs; but that’s what the Admiral was. Just a representative, not exactly carrying the full weight of Irveric in these talks.

“These men and women aren’t exactly so different from us, Admiral Var,” Snake countered back, his tone calm and insisting as he directed his words to the Admiral. “These individuals pursue and seek the values of a Galaxy united by Imperialism, just like us. Not long ago were all of us under the banner of the Sith until the truths of our beliefs set us free. I think the same can be said for these prisoners.” Of course, this was all optimistic dialogue coming from Bline. He recognized the potential dangers of these operatives that they carried, and Var was correct in suggesting a a tribunal to give a more prestigious verdict on these convicts. But that would be a waste of time in order to put these people to work, be tools that can be disposed if they dare to be compromised or defective.

“Those that are Sith disciples capable of using the Force should be disposed of, that I agree on,” seeing if agreeing with the Admiral on one aspect of his argument would get him anywhere.

Although if he didn’t get his way, he could always work up something it the department of Justice of the Coalition for Progress in order to undermine the tribunal.

As for Jaeger...a bit interesting to see him wishing death upon one of the staff that was head of CORSO. An organization similar to COMPNOR with its own twist.

 

[Josiah Navollius]

Tags: Tyrell Paxxus Jaeger Harrsk Halketh Lucien Dooku Karlist Rax

AQUA DEMENTIA​

This was not a hard topic and was barely worth discussing in the moffs mind. For quite some time Josiah had been away from the political scene and reserved to taking care of his own territories and rumored black site projects. Away but not uninformed. Apon the table where everyone was to be seated a blue hue faded into view for all to see, Faint at first, it glew brighter and the fuzzy details of the image soon refined. Moff Navollius himself. His background was briefly loud, as if crowds were arguing or in combat. His exact location was unknown.

Soon silence reigned and the moff resigned himself to a comfortable seated position. For now he waited and listened to the proposals of others. As was he routine. Always the last to give his view, opinion or word. While the other warlords and moffs had their verbal way. Josiahs eyes darted down to a datapad on his desk, a piece of tech that happened to contain the highlighted information he had review from this topic earlier.

One Sith Remnant prisoners.
Live or face execution? The moffs world enclosed around him as his mental stirred. Memories of his own days within the Sith government were still fresh. It was public knowledge, that at one time, Moff Navollius was Sith-Imperial Intelligence. He would not of been the man he was today if it was not for their training and what they put him through.

" If I may." Josiah began by gesturing toward Djorn Bline " As this young man has excellently put forward, These One Sith men and women, for the most part, hold little difference from citizens of the New Imperial Order. Our ideals, skills, talents and efforts all fuel this governing faction we hold dear. They, like us, desire unification." He sniffed the air in pause. The man knew what his decision was before the topic even arrived. This was a game of tactics and in his mind the merging of old and new held more risk than it did gain. Of all the warlords and moffs in the meeting none had experienced the Sith quite like Josiah did. Working beside them and with them. Setting up counter intelligence, preforming assassinations and assisting in black-op operations. He knew what they could be capable of if they those to flip sides.

" It is for that very reason I agree with Admiral Var Koon , Execute them." he blatantly put forth. The two antagonistic words cut through the very air and even deeper into everything he said before hand. The moffs expression was stoic after he finished, as if he was putting a foot down on the subject. In the end it would come down to a vote no doubt but even if it didn't....

" Captain you may engage. I want those reinforcements taken care of, I will join your squad shortly." His face turned to address what could of been a fellow trooper or some type of personal guard. It appeared the Moff was on the field of battle.

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I
pool party, banditfighting, pool party
g a n g s t a ' s _ p a r a d i se
​

They were meant to die on that day the most stupidest deaths in the history of the universe. And it wouldn't have been a loss; not at all. One was a drug dealer playing a commando and the other a murderer cosplaying as a black ops agent. Tomorrow, they would've been easily replaced, and with far more adequate replacements most definitely.

Alas.

The ground erupted in hellfire. Inferno. The world rattled, jittered and melted beneath their feet. A symphony of destruction conducted by the devil's gunship. It came out of nowhere, its pilot a severely brain dead member of the starfighter corps.

Somehow, magically even, the duo were free from the maws of death. In the chaos they saw their target in the distance fleeing once more. Arno hurried towards his wounded comrade, ripped off the harpoon in his calf and loaded his gun once more before slamming it to Tavius.

"You're a better shot!" he yelled out in the midst of the earth exploding all around them.
Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Obj 1

Before he could even think of anything to save himself, heavy fire rained down on the ugly creatures around them, littering the beach in death and carnage. Superheated plasma having turned grains of sand into glass.

The harpoon was yanked out of his leg, and he bit on his lower lip, the birthing tears from the ducts in his eyes hidden by the helmet he still wore.

"You shot me man," he says, tugging down the bipod stand and placing it onto a corpses' shoulder blades.

Leading the shot, he hit the trigger, the harpoon flying out rapidly.

Sinestra

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I
pool party, banditfighting, pool party
g a n g s t a ' s _ p a r a d i se
​

"Good observation." Arno sarcastically replied, he had no time for bitchin'; not when their scumbag of a target was escaping. Somehow, in the midst of hell itself, Tavius was able to fire the harpoon and hit their target gutting him like a fish. Blood churned out before the lagged detonator triggered the explosion turning the Inquisitor into gore.

Meanwhile, the demons disappeared: some turned to ash from the gunship, others dissipated after their master was turned to mush. The gunship flew away, the hero in the cockpit would forever remain a mystery. Around them the beach party now looked like a warzone between the galaxy and the creatures of hell.

Arno fell flat on his backside, a deep sigh of relief.

"We need a payrise."
Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

Obj 1

"Need another vacation. One day we'll hit Coruscant - I gotchu." Bobbing his head up and down as he let himself slump against the floor. Some of the feeling was returning to his leg, and when he looked at it, the raked flesh was visibly healing right before his eyes.

"Uh huh. I've just the thing." He says, crawling over to a beach chair and dusting off some of the ash in the seat, he clambers up into it and rests back.

"Weren't we supposed to take him alive?"

Sinestra

 

[Sinestra]

O B J E C T I V E _ I
pool party, banditfighting, pool party
g a n g s t a ' s _ p a r a d i se
​

"I prefer cash over vac-huh?" Arno blinked a dozen times before he asked his partner a question. "How the hell's your wound healing so fast?"

Has COMPNOR been doing some experiments again?

He completely forgot whether their mission was to capture the target alive. Probably.

But who cares?
Tavius Muuaji

 

[Tavius Muuaji]

OBJ 1

Tavius glanced down, seeing skin, flesh, and meat piecing itself back together before his very eyes. There was a shrug, and he groans as he rises up to sit straight.

He was Firrereoan. The species was so close in tuned with Human physiology that it even fooled medical equipment when processing patients, unless it was otherwise configured to detect his race. As far as he knew, he was a full on human, just with extra healing ability - who was he to question?

Looking up and down the beach, it was dead.

"Space wizard," he'd say, finally admitting it aloud, that he was indeed force sensitive.

Before he could go into further detail, which he didn't want to, he felt the harpoon line tug.

"Uh... You seeing this?" The line bobbing up and down before the rifle jerked out of his lap.

Sinestra

 

[Simon Meinrad]

H U N T E R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
GLEE ANSELM
OPERATION : TIDAL WAVE
Kolson Vrask | Meko Sorrin | Gedeon Rath

<"No...no I don't think we have the green light for a BDZ you fucking mad man.">

<"What a damn shame, honestly."> his voice a mixed of humor and disappointment. Everyone in Vandal knew that Crik was the ruthless bastard out of the bunch. Probably committed more war crimes than all of them combined. Noncombatants? He'd shoot them up whether in a firefight, or hell even on reconnaissance missions; if some locals were in their vicinity, he'd shoot them up, too. It didn't matter who it was. Men, women, and children. Some of his squad-mates had morals that they were disgusted by his lack of ethics in battle. Some even threw up by the sight of it.

Some soldiers could stomach whatever they saw, but questioned it; some couldn't stomach it at all; and the rest enjoyed the hell out of it.

Crik definitely belonged to the latter category.

<"Crik...tell me real quick. When you got the ping for Glee Anselm...I can't be the only one that figured we'd be up in a cozy assignment for once, awaiting our next mission, 'peacekeeping' on one of the beachfront settlements. Something like that...nope. Nope instead...here we are, in the shit, again.">

<"Berik, why do I wanna protect some tendril looking motherfucker? Don't tell me you got a thing for weird shit like this, and they call my crazy.">

"Peacekeeping" on the beachfront settlements, what a way to waste his time. Luckily, their CO had a spine and could take insults and banter. Crik always had a thing to say to the CO of Dark Rider, but he had a feeling every time he did he got subtly punished for it.

Damn bastard.

<"Imagine...imagine these amateurs sipping on coladas and memosas, Berik. I'll make sure eating sentients goes into the war crime books, wonder if they taste similar to Mon Calamri."> It was up to his squad if they wanted to believe if Crik had eaten humanoid sentients before...that would be a no comment answer from him.

<"So far, not picking up anything on my scanners. Either we're dealing some ghosts or something, this ain't like that weird shit on Kalee where we were jacked up; 'member that, Berik?">

​

In the trees and branches individuals in ghillie armor with some features of stealth technology observed and stalked their prey. These were Anselmis on patrol, much more advanced and sophistically trained than most of their brethren. These insurgents and their allies knew what would eventually come with the New Imperials advancing on Glee Anselm. For too long the Anselmi were discriminated against from their Nautolan counterparts; they were hardly recognized in galactic politics, and were a backwards species compared to other intelligent lifeforms. They would not be invited to any diplomacy gatherings between the Imperials and the Nautolans, probably not even mentioned once. What significance did they contributed to the Galaxy other than they were once a proud people with an empire that ruled over the vast sea of Glee Anselm, only to find their doom and regress back as a species.

Their ambitions and desires got the attention of an interest group...a rogue rebel group that schemed in the unconventional aspects of war, taking up this abandoned resort park as a base for their operations. Their location was known and sooner or later would be exposed to the war machine of the New Imperials. They would have to abandon, but not before evacuating their assets and leaving the Anselmi insurgents the knowledge of modern warfare. They had already trained several battalions of Anselmi, teaching them how to use blasters, explosives, and ground vehicles, and how to apply them in tactics.

The New Imperials would think their fight was only with the One Sith insurgents and the horrid of Sithspawn; once the head of that beast was cut off, another one would take its place in the form of a civil war.

 

[Ravraa Vyshraal]

homecoming

BYOO | RAVRAA VYSHRAAL, MOFF OF SHILI

New Imperial Order

Irveric Tavlar

​

An unnatural demand? States themselves were unnatural demands, men like Tavlar and Ravraa existed because they demanded it. Because they demanded forms and flesh to rule and command. Because someone, somewhere, one day drew a line and stated an ideology. That’s all this came down to at the end of it all? Wasn’t it? It hardly mattered anymore to Ravraa, he had to serve, his people needed him, who else could pick up these reigns? Some possible, would-be despot? Some corrupt nightmare given body just to enact whatever twisted fantasies they wished? He knew whispers, COMPNOR, other nefarious things lurking in the dark, lurking in the background.

Just when he was wishing for some type of release, Tav had brought out a cigar. He had never had an urge to smoke, he never longed for any form of vacation from the world, even if cigars were just for taste, what would it be like to just forget and puff away for an afternoon? He didn’t have luxuries like that anymore.

“Not life service, eh? I’d’a talk to em, each, see what they want. Don’t want to drag any of them further. Don’t figure I’ll be leadin’ troops much anymore, eh? Clerical duties, parking myself behind a seat… not much different from the captain job.”

He had so many questions that he should be asking Tavlar, so many questions that the Imperator could tell him to help lead him on the right path.

He didn’t know the man, he had no right to ask, but it slipped out, casually, as if he was talking to a friend.

“Why’d you do it, man?” The Togruta gestured at the space around them, hands cutting through the smoke. “Why this? The NIO, all of it? The war against the Sith, Kyber Dark. I know why I serve, sir. I wouldn’t have any ‘ifferent goin’ on anyways. Why, then? Everyone got a story, I figure. What’s yours, past, ya know, the holoscreens and propaganda. Just as two fellas from the Rim, eh?”