Private Business trip to Ryloth

[Laphisto]

Laphisto had heard whispers—Ryloth had risen to prominence once more, but not through war or rebellion this time. Instead, it had been chosen as the new capital of the Foundation, a coalition of humanitarian aid workers and reformists dedicated to healing the wounds of the Outer Rim. The irony wasn't lost on him. Ryloth, long scarred by occupation and exploitation, now stood as a beacon of hope for the forgotten edges of the galaxy. Even while he'd been entrenched in campaigns on the other side of the galaxy, the Mid and Outer Rim still felt like home—at least in spirit. Dust, fire, resilience... those worlds had shaped him and his people. He could never truly abandon them.


The Kalinda system wasn't far from here. Once, it had been the stronghold of the Lilaste Order. Its drydocks, hidden enclaves, and training yards had all pulsed with the quiet discipline of his soldiers. But that chapter had ended when the Royal Naboo Republic had extended its reach, annexing the sector under the guise of stability and reform. There hadn't been a fight—just quiet pressure, political games, and a choice. Laphisto had led his people away, unwilling to serve under someone else's flag. The Order's exodus to Bastion, where they aligned with the Diarchy, was born from necessity... and principle.


But now, standing on the edge of Foundation space, he couldn't ignore the possibilities. His official mission was quiet—no banners, no grand declarations. He was here to observe, to test whether the Foundation could live up to their ideals. Could they be trusted as allies? Were they just another well-meaning bureaucracy that would crumble under real pressure?

Unsurprisingly, the journey here had already presented complications. Laphisto was no stranger to distraction. Trouble had a way of finding him, whether in the form of pirates with imperial scraps strapped to their hulls, warlords clinging to dying empires, or desperate colonies in need of something more than words. He narrowed his eyes, watching the traffic patterns over Ryloth from the viewport of his ship. It was beautiful in its way—the planet, the movement, the quiet hum of a people trying to do better. But he couldn't afford to be naive. The galaxy didn't reward good intentions—it devoured them.


His thoughts drifted briefly to Kalinda. He wondered what remained there now. Had the Republic preserved what they took, or paved it over with polished structures and smiling diplomats? Either way, that door was closed. no matter he was sure he would find what he needed. and so as the The Conquests Agenda touched down at the landing bay laphisto made his way off the loading ramp, taking in a deep breath and letting the force flow over his eyes using force sight to help him perceive the world around him "alright then, let's get to work"

Skyler50

 

[Skyler50]

"Sky, can you pick me up like you always do!?
Come on, come on, come on please, my feet hurt!!"

"but if we've been walking for less than 10 minutes...ahhh, okay, just because you asked with those cute looking eyes"
Skyler replied to her little sister, who wanted to be picked up.
So she braced herself and picked her up, placing her little legs along her chest and the rest of her tiny body resting on her shoulder.
"Oh, you're getting heavy, you're growing up," the alien girl added, smiling, but feeling a little nostalgic at the same time.
The two kept walking as Skyler had to do some stuff, she wasn't alone when going out, ever, her sister always wanted to be with her.

"Where are we going? On other planets like usual!?"
"Now we're heading to do some purchases here, we can't go now i'm sorry, but i promise i'll buy you something nice...as we can afford to go!"
A kind smile appeared on Skyler's face.

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto strode through the open market with purposeful steps, his towering frame impossible to miss. Standing well over seven feet tall, with wings folded neatly behind him and a long tail swaying with each motion, he drew more than a few glances from the local populace. Yet it wasn't just his stature that set him apart it was the armor he wore, matte and battle-scarred, and the Broad Saber mag-locked at his waist,

He moved through the bustling stalls with quiet curiosity, pausing occasionally to inspect exotic goods, local produce, or unfamiliar tools. He made a point of blending in as best he could, though blending was a relative term in his case. Each pause gave him a moment to subtly observe the Foundation guards and local enforcement how they moved, how they interacted with citizens, how the people responded to them.

So far, everything checked out. The atmosphere was calm, orderly. The world, once fractured and chaotic, now seemed at least on the surface well-managed. There was a sense of control here, of direction. For the most part.

Skyler50