Rebellion Conflict at Kuat - Too Many Cooks Edition [The Grayson Imperium vs The Republic]

[Theo Vereen]

Location: Alderaan, New Aldera mixed in with the Protestors
Objective: Speak with the Protestors

Theo recieved the message from Becca the Queen's aide that she wished him to take the Alderaan Knights to the Museum and find the leaders of the protest and speak with them.

It wouldn't be an easy task the amount of bodies within the streets and near the museum well let's say it wasn't a small little group holding signs and shouting kumbaya. He nodded to no one as he began to dress in the uniform of the Knights. What was this about really? Was it because of the unrest and unspoken opinions hiding behind the smooth passive faces of the people of the Core.

He didn't know he barely had time to think about but he knew from his representation of Alderaan to the Republic that things were not all sunshine and rainbows.

He and a small compliment of 6 walked out and headed towards the protestors as they moved heads turned. Theo wore no headgear, he was meant to be seen. He nodded as some approached, "Are the Sith back? Should we leave the City?"

He wasn't sure what to say, He didn't want to start a panic, "We don't know about the Sith, and no right now we don't know of any reason for you to leave the City. It will be alright we are going to find out what's going on.."

He look he got back wasn't one of relief it was one of I don't believe you. He wasn't sure he believed himself. "yes I'm looking for the leaders of the protest, can you take me?"

 

[Bernard]

Allies: The Grayson Imperium, Kuat Defence Forces
Enemies: The Republic, Unknown Intruders, Lanik Dawnstar
Location: Kuat Surface, Forrest
Oh no.

Cold eyes stared at their prey with utmost concentration. The Jedi's face was almost emotionless, were it not for the slightest hint of disdain betrayed on his features he would appear indifferent to their conflict. His gaze met the resolute eyes of his foe, who'd managed to break the tumble, now standing ready to meet the Jedi. The Arkanian brought forward his right arm, swinging the blade in a wide arc before transitioning it onto its downward path to end the saboteur's life. Golden metal appeared as though out of thin air, however, brilliant rays of sunlight reflecting back at the Arkanian as he was illuminated by the shield's bestowed glow. The sudden brightness caused him to flinch ever so slightly, mind preoccupied for the briefest of moments, not realising the sudden burst in Force energy emanating from the human until it would be too late. His blade made contact with the shield, icy blue biting into blazing gold. At the same time, a loud shockwave pierced the Jedi's conscious. Pain raced through his nervous system, a direct blow having made contact in turn with his body below the ribs on his left side. For a split second his entire body tensed up in mid-air as his mind scrambled to process the pain, only releasing him once the adrenaline overshadowed the brief spike in sensation.

His body was still being carried forward, bound to crash into his foe and send them both tumbling down the hill. The downward momentum of his manoeuvre had intensified the received blow, but it was also an instrument he had used to empower his own. He had no time to spend pondering the tactical opportunities he had failed to notice on his opponent's side during the advent of his attack, instead, he brought his focus to return his composure.

Fortunately, composure was something that came easily to the Jedi, the man's counterattack was quickly compartmentalised and set aside as white eyes dared to glance downward. He'd considered briefly what his plan of attack would be should his opponent not be slain in one swift action, but little had indicated a turn of events that would bring them into a state like this. The human was standing on the hill, the Arkanian falling towards him, momentum reduced greatly by the punch to the gut and the strike on the shield, but not eliminated. The saboteur's ability to land a proper blow on the Arkanian was commendable. Not many had the right to that claim. The environmental hazards he encountered were on average more hazardous than most armed opposition. It brought Bernard to feel a slight hint of remorse over his coming actions.

A four-fingered hand suddenly shot forward to grasp the Human's arm just below the elbow. The gloved hand sat tightly locked in place, connecting the Arkanian to his target. The boot of his left foot impacted the human's right thigh below the shield with a quiet thud. He put most of the remaining weight of his fall onto the leg of his opponent, hoping to twist it outwards while he pulled the man's arm the opposite way. At the same time the Jedi pulled his right elbow up and along with it his hand, lifting the blade from the golden shield and bringing it to a still further up, his hilt at the same height as the human's head, hovering idly at a safe distance. This move facilitated the next step in his plan. Without the plasma blade of his lightsabre in the way, he could bring up his free leg, pushing down on the shield with his knee for additional leverage. With the weight of his body pressing down on the man's leg and shield, alongside the pull of the human's arm in the opposite direction to increase the amount of strain put on him, Bernard intended to incapacitate any defensive options left for the saboteur before he had any chance to counter-attack.

With the setup out of the way he proceeded to implement the final step of the procedure. Somewhat steady on his feet, he brought the blade back down towards the edge of his opponent's shield, more than half of it on the side of the shield opposite him. The icy blade hissed where it fell upon the metal, leaving a slight trail of smoke as it slowly burned a dent into its rim, millimetre by millimetre. Cutting through the shield was not the Jedi's intention, however. Moving his hand further away from the two while maintaining contact with the shield, he began angling the blade towards the human. There was little point in overcoming the defences of his opponent with brute force, a more nuanced approach seemed fitting. Bernard was no hulking brute employing the principles of Djem So merely due to a perceived superiority of strength. In his experience finesse triumphed in nearly every scenario, an observation that he let influence his own style of combat.

His cape fell over him as the blade began to seek its prey. The human would see eyes locked in intense concentration, as cold and unforgiving as an Arkanian winter. Within his mind, the only feasible defence the human had left was to employ the Force again, this time directed outwards, a blast similar to the one that had opened their fight. At the moment his mind drew the slightest amount of attention to draw breath the Arkanian, however, realised something about his opponent. The fighter had never bothered to create the Force Bubble around himself that was so fundamental to the art of lightsabre combat. A hint of shock ran through the Arkanian's expression as he realised just what an amateur he'd allowed to land a blow on him. For the close combat defence of an Arkanian Jedi trained from birth at the Academy dedicated to the great Arca Jeth himself to be overcome by a simpleton who could not even draw the most fundamental protective barrier around himself was not just an insult, it was an open declaration of incompetence.

A measure of malevolence entered into the Jedi's eyes. An undertone to the intense storm of Force energy that whirled within him rose to prominence, entering the stage front and centre as it declared loud and clear its power. Without thought the Arkanian seized it, accepting it as though it had been his own all this time, it felt only natural to do so, as though this power was what he'd always deserved. It coursed through his being, breaking all floodgates carefully constructed during two decades of Jedi training, flowing out from himself, focused directly on the human before him. The Arkanian's body tensed further, his previous efforts doubling in intensity as his eyes went wide.

Immediately cold settled in between the two. A supernatural drop in temperature, freezing the blades of grass immediately surrounding them, engulfed the two, concentrated primarily on the human. With every fibre of his being, Bernard sought to destroy his foe, the obstacle that was placed in his path towards the ultimate goal of returning the Force to balance. A creeping frost would begin to climb the human's legs, rapidly climbing to freeze the man in place. If not stopped, it would climb further and further, its aim to snuff out the blaze of life within the human, or at least immobilise him long enough for the lightsabre's blade to find its mark and achieve the same. The Jedi had even abandoned any care for his own safety, embracing the cold should it climb far enough to begin covering his own body with little regard to his own safety.

All he cared for at this moment was the end of the saboteur's life.

 

[Maou]

P Placeholder 0128 Fable Solborne Denzul Yorkell Faith Organa
​

Kaito stopped short of sucking his teeth when Fable walked away out of whisper distance. She was a pretty face with nice morals and good sentiments but she was being overly naive if she thought nice words would keep the people believing in 'their cause' let alone trust them. What fool trusted a government with no means to defend them with their livelihoods? He was by no means an Imperialist when it came to order and the like. Of course he wasn't, he was a shadow king of Corellia's underworld...But a strong republic meant a strong economy, and a strong economy and a brighter light in the Core meant deeper shadows for him and his ilk to hide in and grow in. He didn't want a takeover. That was far too tiresome. What he wanted was to live his life the way he saw fit and a weak Republic without a shipyard to produce the vessels to keep their borders safe and ultimately strike out against those who would threaten them was foolish.

But for now he held his tongue.

The Imperator's words though offered an opportunity.

"Unlike your lordship we are humble senators. We do not hold so much power over the military forces of the Republic as to wave our hands deactivate every turbolaser," He paused as if suddenly remembering something. "There is a Corellian Admiral taking place at the battle at Kuat. I may be able to reach him. There, I do have power. I'll need time to reach him, may I suggest we call for a recess? When I have news of the Corellian fleet's actions and Fable has gotten in contact with the Admiral maybe we can at least slow the bleeding..."

 

[Lanik Dawnstar]

Objective: Arrest Bernard
Equipment: Aspis Combat shield, Lightsaber
Location: Kuat's Surface
Tags: Bernard
Checkmate

Perhaps it had been too much for Lanik to hope that the punch to the Arkanian’s kidney would put him out of commission. Jedi could take far harder hits than that and keep fighting, some even willing to continue on after losing a limb. The dedication of a Jedi was something anyone should fear. Some would go to the very ends of the universe to accomplish a goal. Some willing to give their own being to save a single life. In these moments what seemed to drive the Arkanian was seeking the defeat of what they perceived to be a foe.

Feeling a newly formed grip on his elbow, rivaling the strength of durasteel Lanik winced. Had he truly been the one to miscalculate? The blossoming pain from his left thigh confirmed the Jedi’s thoughts. The knee wished to buckle beneath the additional weight of the Jedi and the force in which the foot struck. Lanik eased some of the pressure on his knee and letting it flow to the front of his foot. Lifting the heel of his foot up the Jedi shifted both his own and the Arkanian’s weight. Toes aching, ankle stressed, teeth-gritting Lanik held on. Sweat beginning to bead on his head from the exertion.

So many things were taking place in such close proximity together it was mind-numbing. There was the grip on his now forcibly extended right arm. His left leg being used as a pedestal by the Arkanian, all the while the off-white blade burned at the Thyrissian shield. The smoke that floated into the air between the two assaulted the senses. The burnt metal was far from pleasant, a furrow beginning to form, the edge of the saber creeping closer with each passing millisecond.

Despite the fight happening in the middle of the forest, it was relatively quiet. The sounds of wildlife had retreated with the sonic clap of Lanik’s telekinetic strike. The only noise that remained was the breathing of the two Jedi, and the hum of a lightsaber.

The lock held, a battle of determinations, of wills. Jedi forced into combat with one another, neither willing to give up. For Lanik he faced death, the Arkania perhaps only a defeat and a loss of pride. Who truly knew how the Imperium punished the failures of those within its ranks? Perhaps it was also a battle for the Arkanian’s own life. However, when Lanik looked up into the Arkanian’s cold gaze he did not see fear of what was to come. He saw ambition, a being callused to the pleas of his fellow Jedi to stop the bloodshed. He saw a warrior fighting in earnest. In the end that was all some ever saw the Jedi as, was as warriors meant to defeat their foes.

An exhalation of air was all the human could give, was the only ground he was willing to give. With it though his breath turned to vapor, the temperature around them dropping. Plants began to wilt instantly, grass icing over as the frost crept its way across the ground. The Arkanian had truly gone mad, he sought to freeze not only Lanik but possibly himself. All for victory?

There was only one option left to the human. Something that the other possibly would never understand. Shifting his left leg back and letting it give way beneath the Arkanian, Lanik also deactivated his shield letting the saber dart forward towards his body. It was an act of sacrifice to save both himself and the Arkanian from horrific ends. With the shield deactivated Lanik’s left arm straightened out latching onto the Arkanian’s wrist, pulling the saber down and towards his body. Left foot shifting to the side, Lanik’s right leg came up extending forward in a straight kick for the base of the Arkanian’s chin and part of his throat. An incapacitating strike. The force flowed through the limb, empowering it, the calf and thigh muscles bulging, veins visible.

At the same time as the kick would connect the saber met the target Lanik had shifted it to. His own lower ribs. Above and beneath the vital organs. That did not make it any less painful. It was the first time the Jedi had ever felt the torment of being struck by a full-blown lightsaber. The stun setting didn’t compare. It was as if molten magma had been poured into the wound. Eyes instantly tearing, mouth opening releasing a howl of agony. He now understood what it was like for those he’d struck with the famed weapon.

The Arkanian had unknowingly sealed his own defeat, he may have been willing to end himself for Victory but he’d also overreached. He’d held onto Lanik’s arm which kept the Jedi upright as the kick came, he’d also only steading himself upon the human’s body relying on him staying in a singular position thus letting himself fall towards the kick. Not only that he’d reached out to focus on the force while doing all this. Lanik simply seized this opportunity to bring an unnecessary battle to an end.

 

[Jai'galaar Gred]

Armor: Jai'galaars Beskargam
Weapons: 2x Trayc'kal
Scherezade deWinter Lucius Fendam Kamyrin Gyvolis Jegy Sesara Kiber Dorn

Jai looked at Scherezade, shaking his head a little before looking around. Of course she had.

"How are we allies again," he asked mockingly before seeing a man walk up. One that was searching for his cat. While the Mando tried to stay cautious, he couldn't help but feel sad for the man. He was a beast master by trade after all, and remembered the pain he'd feel back on Concord Dawn when the Sith managed to injure one of his pets, or worse. He sighed, letting deWinter speak until...

He stole her cheese cubes? Jai quickly aimed his dagger/pistols, firing the distinct blue rings of stun blasts. Schere started yelling about frying the man, and ran after him. Jai soon followed, speaking up. "Schere, it's cheese! Not worth all that. A good stun'll do the trick."

 

[Venandi]

Allegiance: Republic
Location: Aldera City, Alderaan
Post: 1
Links: Squad(In BIO) |
Tags: Faith Organa | Vale Vynar | Dak | Republic Engineering | Fable Solborne | Denzul Yorkell | Cataline Holt | P Placeholder 0128
Friends: Republic | Imperium(sorta)
Enemies: Everyone else

Venandi had said his part, but it seemed that Faith had overheard him. Straightening up, he shook his head somewhat before responding to her.
"If we go to a hospital, it's harder to defend because you'll want us to defend the civvies too. Not only that, it'll be seen as using innocents as shields. Plus, hardly unthinkable. I've heard that it's happened numerous times in times not too long ago."

Chuckling darkly at that, Venandi simply turned his attention to everyone else once more. Turning his gaze to Fable as she responded to him, Venandi sighed but nodded his head in acceptance. He knew it was a long shot, but as one of the squad leaders, and first to be here, he had to suggest it. Takin a step back from the proceedings then, Venandi stood against the wall, observing the others present. Now, Venandi hadn't been there the whole time, so he didn't know all about what had happened before he'd entered, but he did hear her answer Yorkell. Something about detaining the leaders of this. Venandi was indifferent to it, the riots outside were panic, not truly organized, at least not yet. Plus, protests were part of Republics, even if Venandi hoped that there would be a stronger sentiment against them.

However, it wasn't Venandi's part to say anything regarding this. He was simply here as a guard, best left to ensure that no one here was killed. That said, the message over open comms was worrying, and Venandi did agree that whoever that was should be detained. In fact, Venandi ordered his brothers on the roof to be on the lookout for whoever that individual was. They'd heard about agents, they sowed chaos and even called themselves the agents of that. Of course, it could be some other agents, but better safe than sorry. To that extent, if they were to spot the individual in question, they were to inform the police, perhaps even take matters into their own hands.

Sighing, Venandi leaned against the wall. He longed to go out into the thick of things and do something, but he also knew that now was an opportune time for an assassin to attack. Thus, Venandi chose to stay in the conference room, keeping an eye on everything, even as his brothers watched over the outside of the building. It wasn't what they were made for, and Venandi knew that they'd all go do something soon, but for now, they and he would protect the Senators.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The power conduit opened between the two of them, Jedi and Sith. Energies rebounded were now caught again by the hand that wrought them. But it was not complete, strands of power yet broke free from the loop and ran ragged across the Dark Being's body. The dark fabric caught alight, burning away to reveal the scarred and weathered body beneath. One arc of energy caught the Being directly in the face, and though he seemed unphased by the power that burned over him, the hood that had once concealed his features was now gone.​

​

In the place of a face was a mask, smooth and steel gray. It encompassed the entirety of his head, stopping right where the neck began. There were no features made into the mask itself, save for the dark Sith rune that dominated the entire faceplate and glowed deep crimson. The faintest tuffs of black hair could be seen sticking out from the back, greased with blood. ​

​

ɦօա ʍʊƈɦ օʄ ȶɦɨֆ ƈǟռ ʏօʊ ȶǟӄɛ, ʝɛɖɨ?​

​

The head turned slowly to regard the still undecided observer. ​

​

ɦօա ʍʊƈɦ ƈǟռ ɦɛ?​

​

With a twist of his hand, the Dark Being ruptured the power loop and was engulfed in a large explosion of flames and electricity. Smoke blanketed the area around them, obscuring the Dark Being as he floated back through the air with the power of the Force. His lightsaber had been discarded, both hands now extended out with fingers splayed and flexed. Small orbs of condensed energy came into existence at his palms, driven out away from his body towards the ground near the two other combatants. Once they came into contact with matter, whether that was the ground or their bodies, the balls of light and energy would expand violently until they were about two meters in diameter. The energy unleashed would vitrify stone and flesh, strands of electricity dancing out from the source of impact for a handful of seconds before the spheres dissipated entirely.​

​

Wyatt Morga | Muad Dib ​

 

[Myrium Okar]

Post: Two
Objective: Join the Conversation
Equipment: Purple Bladed Lightsaber, Dark Forge Sword

​

Myrium had finally gotten to position. His initial plan of simply walking into the Museum and blowing the place up had become rather complicated by the fact everyone had started showing up again. Granted, blowing the place up had been a backup plan, to begin with, and the mere thought of destroying a place of artifacts and relics had almost made Myrium gag. The change of scenarios, therefore, was problematic as well as welcoming. His life seemed to be filled with far too many opposites these days.

Circling around the side of the Museum, Myrium used a few quick force jumps, going back and forth between the Museum and the nearest building to it until he got to the roof of the structure. Landing with a small roll to try and diminish the sound, Myrium removed his coat, tossing it aside and drawing his lightsaber, the purple blade igniting with a snap-hiss that Myrium was still getting used to. Flipping the blade around, Myrium cut a small circular opening into the roof of the Museum, grabbing the slab of material and pulling it up with the force, gently placing it beside the hole he had now made for himself. Ensuring the blade on his back was still secured in its sheath and deactivating the lightsaber, Myrium grabbed the rim of the opening and flipped inside.

Flipping inside the Museum from the opening, Myrium let go of the lip of the opening, doing a small three hundred and sixty-degree spin in the air before landing on a balcony on one of the upper levels of the Museum. Voices echoed through the building as Myrium got his bearing, the back and forth between them giving him a pretty good idea where they were located, and who was one which side. Smiling, he took a moment to look around the Museum, pulling a small notebook from his pocket as well as a pen. As he made his way through the upper areas of the Museum, he jotted down notes on the things he saw, where they were from, and the probability they were actually real. Museums had a nasty habit of making things up to simply earn a few extra credits.

After a few minutes and hearing the discussion take a new turn further into the Museum, Myrium sighed. Putting the notepad away, he turned his full attention to his reason for being here. A small bag was draped across his back, and he quickly spun it around and opened it, revealing several small silver canisters. Each one was filled with Kessoline, a nifty little substance that Myrium had come across during his time with the Agents of Chaos. A byproduct of industrial work on Kessel, the stuff was usually stable in its liquid form. However, when burned, it would begin to produce a toxic cloud that, in enclosed spaces, could expand rapidly. A tendency to cling to surfaces, and people, added to the lethality of stuff.

Myrium began to make his way through the Museum, finding small out of the way locations where he could, making sure to avoid the guards in his passage as best he could, though he was not lucky for long. Placing the third canister at the foot of a large statue, Myrium was spotted by a few guards from the Imperium. Their demands for identification fell on deaf ears as Myrium took one look at them, and then sprinted in the opposite direction. He had a few more canisters to place before he could play with others.

@Anyone in the Museum

 

[Wyatt Morga]

The Screams.​

​

Constant and agonizing, ever deeper in his psyche - he couldn’t get rid of them. Not only could he feel the effects of the Phobis device, Wyatt could feel the ever torturous sensations of every man, woman, and child in the city - and it…​

​

It destroyed him.​

​

He cried out in pain with them as the Sith let the circuit of energy between them break loose - snapping them both backwards. Perhaps it was the distractions, the pain in his mind, but while the Sith floated away to safety - Wyatt didn’t. Limp, he flew through the air as his lightsaber disengaged with a snap; and he landed heavy on the ground in a slump. For a moment, he even lost consciousness -​

​

For a moment.​

​

Blood dripped from his scalp as he awoke - forced conscious once again by the Force. He grunted as he stood with a quick speed - but the momentary effects on his body were hard to ignore. A mixture of adrenaline and the Force kept him standing - but his breath was short and ragged. He was losing his zen, his center, and he knew it…​

​

“I can take more.”, Wyatt said as he closed his eyes. Blood pooled in the lids as he abandoned his physical senses in favour of the Force - strictly the Force. He had to break through the constraints of what bound them, focus solely on the monstrosity of a Sith before him, wrapped in metal and etched in blood.​

​

His lightsaber sprang to life in a quick blue flash as a rain began to fall on the crying city - as though the Force itself began to weep on the grounds of their sacrilege. Where the ball of energy landed, where it began to glass the ground it touched - Wyatt reached out with the Force and launched the one that came nearest to him back at the Sith;​

​

Quick and deadly as it were.​

​

Yet, it was a distraction - where the ball hurled towards the masked Sith, Wyatt sprang from behind it with Lightsaber in hand. His speed was immeasurable, and his actions seemed spontaneous and reactionary to the subtlest sways of the Sith’s own balance - but ever strike had a purpose. Immediate speed that rushed to overwhelm, to force an opening to strike the Phobis device at the Sith’s center once more…​

​

Wyatt only needed time, and hope that the other arrival didn’t hope to strike him down as well.​

​

Darth Carnifex │ Muad Dib​

 

[Kamyrin Gyvolis]

Location: Kuat, ground.
Wearing: Nightmare Mk.IV Armor
Wielding: 1 Rin's Lightsaber | 1 Blackout Baton | 1 Terminus Shiv
Allies: Agents of Chaos
Enemies: Everyone else
Direct Tags: (people on Kuat) Scherezade deWinter Jai'galaar Gred Lucius Fendam Jegy Sesara Kiber Dorn

​

Kam moved quickly down the alleyways, a maze in themselves to bypass the chaos that was unfolding, the fire becoming a brighter light source than the sun in these dark alleys painting them with a reddish glow. They were moving away from the buildings they had just recently demolished, a cloud of dust could be seen several blocks away at this point and quick looks outside the alleyway showed people running away. But a few, that still had some sense among the security forces and occupational Imperial forces had the sense to move towards it to either help or find the terrorist. Kam had a map display on her hud showcasing the maze they were travelling, folks in unfamiliar armor with explosions near by would be seen as either terrorist or republic forces. Neither of which she cared to be seen as, avoiding a firefight here would be for the best, their target was the nobility this chaos unfolding was a second hand thing. With the people going nuts and the people at the top few people would be able to impose their rule on the planet until things calmed town, which would unravel any work they had thus far done.

But as she pondered things to herself with troops in tow behind her as their numbers increased as separate squads began to group up to make a deadly little platoon of AoC troops, she doubted with such numbers they could continue unseen for long. But the fire and mass panic without a doubt created a excellent mask and distraction. As she listened to Scherezade deWinter freak out over a lost pet and than switch to anger as someone snatched her cheese cubes. Kam came to a snail pace before completely stopping and turning on her heel to face the troops behind her that came to a stop. They too had heard the message to hunt a thief well attempting to start a riot and simple looked confused.

"Ma'am did Lady deWinter just order us to catch a....Cheese Cube Thief?"

Kamyrin simply shook her head at the response, god she'd need to have a talk with the girl after about her obsession for Cheese cubes. Looking back at the troops before anymore could speak she cut them off.

"No, you misheard some static on the radio, none of us heard that. We'll change to hitting Manor 2, I wanna check out why one of our scouts failed to come back and suspect Lady deWinter will be late to Manor 5 for reasons."

A couple of the older troops simply shook their heads in agreement, they had done missions with her before on other worlds, was not the first time she had done something odd. But one of the younger ones decided to speak up, causing Kam to make a click with her tongue in annoyance.

"But Ma'am, should we at lea...."

Cutting her off with a wave of her hand she simply shook her head before speaking again.

"As stated before, you misheard static, anyone that wants to disagree can remember that the Coins control the pay check and you might find your wallet later lacking a holiday bonus."

Those words quickly shut up the younger troops as she once again turned on her heel facing away from them and waving her hand for them to resume. It would take them a distance but after moving for some time weaving down one alley and another sometimes crossing the street causing a panic in itself they made it to the Estate that they had delegated to be Manor 2. A quick look around found the scout laying in a bush having fallen from a tree perch with a single blaster bolt score upon their chest were they're armor had not been. The armor lay only feet away under the tree hidden, most likely made it hard to climb the tree and the choice to do so cost the scout their life. The building itself seemed to be locked down and were without a doubt expecting guest of the hostile inclined. Shaking her head before shutting the wide eyes of the girl upon the ground, Kam made hand signs telling the platoon of troops to array themselves around the building and prepare to breach. They would ensure the dead girl would not be avenged, one does not kill a Agent and not expect chaos to reign upon their day. Standing back up she moved towards the front taking out her lightsaber and preparing the signal to attack.

 

[Kiber Dorn]

Location: Streets of Kuat
Mission: Grand Theft Cheese, Try Not to Die
Equipment: A dazzling smile
I'm Sorry, Don't Fry Me: Scherezade deWinter Jai'galaar Gred Kamyrin Gyvolis (Via Comms)​

Mercifully, as a cowardly scumbag, Kiber Dorn was used to ensuing blaster fire in the wake of his grab'n'go methods, which explained the peculiar way his skinny legs pranced in unpredictable directions, as if he were taking part in some kind of demented jazz ritual.

That was until increasingly horrifying threats were screamed at him and upon turning back to look the man found himself being chased by a furious and apparently demented woman. Oh no, he hadn't signed up to run this much.

“LADY!” Kiber cried out while sprinting, flailing his arms (accidentality jostling the bag in front of her) to emphasise his point, “IT'S JUST CHEESE!”

Who felt this strongly about cheese?!

His hopes of just being able to run away and dodge down an alley to have his lunch were now dashed, and a new problem had presented itself. His tiny blackened lungs. It would be a mere matter of minutes before Kiber would be on the floor, coughing and wheezing like he was living his last.

Where to run? Where to run!?

“I'M JUST A POOR AND...HUNGRY BOY!” Dorn screamed as he sprinted, his eyes darting between buildings to find a place that he could potentially lose her.

A bank? Yeah, sure, try and escape from somewhere that fortified. Through the kitchen of a cafe? Not getting through those closed shutters. A clothes shop? No, mannequins are scary. A trampoline park? Yeah, yeah! Bounce to freedom! Out the fire escape and be free to eat the cheese! It was perfect (it wasn't)!

As he made a beeline for the establishment known as Let's Bounce, he continued trying to reason with the incensed woman and her (presumed) husband.

“FOR...THE LOVE OF....THE FORCE! CAN'T YOU BUY....YOUR WIFE MORE...CHEESE?!”

If he got close enough to the building Kiber planned on crashing through the glass door, elbows first but he had to get there first. There was no accounting for what could have happened with this lady's fit of cube-based mania.

 

[Muad Dib]

Allies: Alderaan
Enemies: Whomever volunteers, which I believe just happened
Location: being invited to a dance
Objective: do not create a crisis, to be the very best that no one ever was
Accessories: in profile

Theme: (low key playing on his comms)
[YouTube]​

The circuit of power was broken as the Sith turned the energy into himself. Muad knew it was a self deprecating maneuver not founded on worry of loss of life, his own foot rested on an Alderaani corpse that have testimony to that. Even so, the rippling energy was a substantial amount that Muad knew would tear himself apart if he tried to absorb such an amount of Force. Course thankfully he wasn't the one who had pulled the power onto himself.

As he watched, the Sith Lord was awash with power, tendrils of energy scorching off the garments that had concealed the body and mask. Muad almost grimaced at the condition of the revealed body. The poor bastard wasn't winning any Mister Universe pageants with those scars. Then the rune marked mask turned to the Jedi to speak, leaving no doubt to the continuation of the fight.

Disconcerting for the poor Jedi who hadn't weathered the fight quite as pristinely as the Sith. And then JoJo the dog faced boy (Muad only assumed because who would wear a mask while being otherwise so skimpily dressed or perhaps Lord Humungus from that absolute classic two dimensional autobiographical vid) turned and spoke directly to the madman.

Well, guess that's my invite…

As the Sith Lord retreated from view behind the cloud of smoke and his lightsaber disappeared, Muad took the opportunity to relocate himself. He just wasn't all for standing upon the moral high ground, like the Jedi currently was, waiting for his enemy to rally his deviousness and attack in customary villainous style. He shook his head and trotted sideways as he held his beskad that, thankfully, did not possess the glittering qualities of a lightsaber that would act like a beacon to his location.

And then the awaited attack came in such a fashion that did not disappoint expectations. The Sith Lord threw his two, glowing balls of power at the Jedi and Muad. Thankfully the madman had moved as the ground, greenery, and the poor corpse of the Alderaani were engulfed in a flash before appearing to crystalize in their place. A glance at the Jedi to see how he fared nearly created a sigh of exasperation.

In typical Jedi fashion, the man not only confronted the energy blast but sought to stop and then control the power to send it hurtling back at the Sith for a destructive unification. The Jedi said something about he could take more, another ball to the face perhaps, but then he leapt after the returned energy orb in proposed spontaneous plan of attack.

Not to remain ineffectual any longer, Muad sped forward in a brisk run to where the two men would most likely meet, the blade of the beskad seeking battle. But not nearly as much as the madman wielding it.

Wyatt Morga Darth Carnifex

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Location: Kuat, ground.
Wearing: Armatura | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | The Sofitor
Wielding: 8 Nozhi Blades | 1 Czerka knive | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Clarion | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke | Combat Gauntlets | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader KD-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Allies: Agents of Chaos
Enemies: Everyone else
Direct Tags: (people on Kuat) Kamyrin Gyvolis [ Jegy Sesara Jai'galaar Gred Kiber Dorn Lucius Fendam +Let's Boogie!

"How dare you say such things about cheese?!" Scherezade shot back at Jai, looking back only to shoot him a death glare, "I don't have any stun weapons on me!"

It was true. Scherezade, a Sith Lord, a Blood Hound, the best pin cushion in the 'verse, was decked with enough weapons to arm a village. But none of what she had on her could stun a person. Everything was designed with the thought of killing, limb removing, slaughter, and bleeding. If she was going to pull a weapon out, someone was going to die. And no one was going to die until her cheese cubes were safe – if only because she didn't want their bag to soak up somebody else's blood.

Still they chased! The screams of the cheese thief landed on deaf ears; if he thought buying cheese was so simple, he could buy himself some. You did not simply walk up to someone while talking about a pet in potential danger and then steal their cheese. It was probably not written down anywhere, but Scherezade was certain it was considered a crime again sentiency in at least a few hundred different systems.

While she ran, Scherezade looked up, trying to gauge where they were going for. She had never, not once in her very short life of two years worth of existence, or in her long life of over seven hundred years total, would have expected that a place like Kuat would have a bounce castle. Under normal circumstances, this would have made her happy. Who didn't love bouncy castles?! But no, not now. Now, it meant her thief would be bouncing away into freedom.

Screaming, she thrust her hands forward, and called the very earth of Kuat. She didn't know if she would make it in time; what she wanted to do was create a wall in front of her thief, a wall of the very earth of the planet itself, a wall that would block them from getting into the bouncy place. Time was not on her side; the earth would have to punch through layers of whatever it was they used for roads in this place.

Another scream, and Scherezade added to her focus, wrapping in the strength, ready to bleed herself for the chance to capture her thief that way. She could feel the sands of Kuat moving to her demands.

The only thing she did not know was if the wall would be constructed on time.

 

[Pom Stych Tivé]

Location: Aboard "The Creature"
Objective: Be rescued from Darth Assimilus , witness the deaths of thousands of innocent lives…because somebody cannot follow directives.




Before the Nightsister, Mistress Pom Stych Tivé knew it, she was on her feet aside Draconis Caesar; she nearly fell over from lethargy. She made it trough the cell door. Her attention latched onto the acute vividness of her dream, and suddenly much more.

The ship tremored as an indeterminable number of slaves were all at once snuffed out of existence. Pomsty stood just within the corridor as the ship was torn through. Bodies jettisoned from their cells into the freezing abyss. The air gushed out violently enough to slide her heels across the floor. Clamoring to hold her ground she grounded her footing through the Force, before the emergency blast doors slammed shut before the duo, securing the survivors within.

She felt the slaves as they perished. Pomsty looked up at Draconis again. 'This is real,' she told herself as her senses began to return to her.

She had been in a holding cell? Pomsty’s mind ran wild to fill in the gaps. ‘Just how did I get here, exactly?’ She remembered very little about her final moments before she had been captured. She had been on a mission, she knew. “Draconis! Thank you for coming to my aid.”

'What of Grayson and Loske? Are they safe?' she wondered, uncertain if they had even been present when she was abducted.

“Who is my captor? And why has he marked me? Tell me the name of the one I shall curse!” she spat. Had someone she known put a bounty upon her head? She had been exonerated of her crimes in the CIS courts, when the witnesses finally came forward in her defense. Her sentence of murder was downgraded to self defense. Surely it hadn’t been them! But she knew secrets about certain sordid affairs. Could it have been? Had the term family meant this little?

She rubbed her Eternal Talisman as it hung over her heart, causing her bandolier filled with Potions to materialize into her awaiting hand.

 

[Tasha Blackmoor]

Location: Headed for the politicians.
Objective: Protect the politicians, assess the problem.
Allegiance: Alderaan, The Grayson Imperium.
Potentially relevant: (sorry if I missed people or added you and you don't consider it relevent): Leon Gallo , Venandi , Maou , Theo Vereen , Xenro , Fable Solborne, Dak

Tasha had heard about the situation on Alderaan and it's rapid accelleration. As her home she found it necessary that she should be there, so she immediately was on her way. She also would be coming with Leon Gallo another who was learning the ways of the force. Though perhaps she appeared less like a Jedi and more like a soldier, covered in armor as she finally added the helmet.

Though they had come along with some of the Imperium's forces that was not Tasha's position to lead. Tasha was headed for the planet beneath, her intent was simple. She would aim to protect the political attempts or the people if there was a dangerous enough threat to warrant it that wasn't already being dealt with. Riots had already begun to break out. She looked Leon Gallo , "I'll be headed for the politicians. With all that I've heard they may be in potential danger. If there's a reason to divert, I may have to. I'm not exceptionally familiar with your skills so I'm sorry about that if we don't yet work together well." she said.

She took in a breath adjusting her BSB rifle and began to move once they landed, she'd be attempting to make her way quickly through the crowds. Her armor might be recognized around here since it was after-all one of the places she would sell it, though the fact it was her that was inside of it might not be quite as obvious as she didn't often alter it by all that much.


Equipment:
Full Cirgun Plate Body Armor with added sensors, encrypted comm system, and sound protection.
Guard Breaker. Back belt.
Two BSB (Blackmoor Sonic Blaster) pistols.
Kueget_LN-21_blaster_pistol (left thigh)
One BSB rifle.
Wrist_link
blackmoor-personal-combat-deflector-shield (left arm, deactivated)

 

[Fable Solborne]

Aldera City
Conference Room
Peace Talks
Maou P Placeholder 0128 Faith Organa Denzul Yorkell Venandi Tasha Blackmoor
==================================​

Part of her wanted to take her seat again, to appear professional and decorous. But the rest of her rebelled at the notion. There was too much adrenaline surging through her blood, too much urgency in her mind, and too much grief building up in her heart. If she stopped and slowed, it would overwhelm her. Already, she could feel the hollow feeling she remembered from after her mother's death beginning to eat away at her. She shoved it aside and ran a finger beneath her eyes, wiping away the tears that still tried to slip free. It was times like these that she wished she had been a Jedi. She didn't know how they did it, but she envied their detachment and emotional control, especially in this moment. Or moments. It was hard to tell. The whole thing was simultaneously dragging on and feeling like everything was compressed into a single heartbeat.

She stopped and stared at a display, frowning, before the roiling emotions pushed her forward again, pacing back and forth across the room, shoulders hunched and brow furrowed. The words were sinking in as she listened. "Yes, yes. Of course." She strode over to a com channel and opened a connection to Zahara Myneto and Andien Gale , "This is Ambassador-Senator Solborne. We are in the talks with the Imperium forces. They are not our enemy. I repeat, they are not the enemy. Inform the rest of the fleet."

In this, her Corellian colleague was correct. Senators had no direct power over the military. The Chancellor did, but they hadn't gotten far enough to elect a chancellor yet. It was an ad hoc government still with a far-too-well-coordinated military. It was what had gotten them into the mess, she suspected. Something their secret adversary had anticipated and used to their advantage. Until they had their government in order and strong enough, they would be vulnerable to exactly these kinds of ploys. She hoped the Caamasi Elek C'rel would take the spot. She was a solid, reliable figure who didn't compromise her principles. They needed that at the top. Not unlike the Imperator, she suspected, albeit far more peaceful and tolerant in her worldview. Perhaps ways to act as a balance to each other.

"The culprits," she mused, considering. "I agree, Your Highness, this does not seem like the work of the Confederacy. They are many things, but this? They have fleets that could easily smash everything we send against them. Why the subterfuge when they have the power to just move in? I could believe a cartel would do this. Black Sun or the Hutts could stoop this low. Agents of Chaos, we have heard of, but this seems even more sinister than their typical behavior."

Hopefully the admiral had heard the message. While she couldn't give them a direct order, an admiral could. And she had made it clear to them that this was to be taken seriously and passed down the chain of command. Next time there was a diplomatic meeting, she'd drag an admiral along for this exact reason. Wasn't such a high rank mostly just administration and bureaucracy anyway?

 

[Alwine Daye]

Location: Aldera City, Alderaan. Time to add aa voice to those peace talk thingies.
Wearing: Armor, Comfortable-looking long coat covering it
Wielding: WindWhisper
Allies: Agents of Chaos
Enemies Everyone else
Tags: Vale Vynar Muad Dib Denzul Yorkell Salamander Dak Cataline Holt Steve Holt Avo Faith Organa Venandi Republic Engineering Maou Fable Solborne Cataline Holt Tasha Blackmoor
Getting into the museum approved by P Placeholder 0128

The spot from which she had given her broadcast was now long abandoned. Alwine had moved away from there after she and Xenro split their ways, the tall man going to find his own ways to spill blood. Alwine, for herself, had slightly different plans. Certainly, there was always the option of joining the fighting, but she had not come here to use her weapon.

Well.

Had not come here to use her weapon too much.

Sneaking into a public restroom, the petite woman removed her armor and folded it into the smallest bag it could fit into, along with her weapon, now wrapped in fabric, tied to it. It was not a perfect solution; the package was not super small, and if someone noticed it, there could be potential trouble. But it was her experience that people rarely paid attention, even if they saw what they thought was a cub, carrying a package.

Minutes later she emerged from the restroom, her form having shifted into that of a wolf. A small woman as a human, Alwine was even tinier in her canine form, having the size of a pup, though despite that, the proportions of an adult wolf. Lupines were supposed to be bigger than that. She, once more, was the anomaly. But in this instant, it did not matter. Puppies drew less attention than full grown wolves in situations such as these.

Having studied the map just before her shift, she knew exactly where she had to go, and with the package of her armor and weapon held firmly by her jaw, she ran through the streets, taking a few detours to avoid the parts of town in which the fighting was condensed.

It was a true shame that she had needed those few minutes. Had she known, Alwine would have looked for ways to get inside the museum much quicker. Had she known, she would have verbally decapitated those who thought the she and the Agents of Chaos were somehow linked to the Sith Empire. Had she known, she would have told them that the Sith Empire was a common enemy. Instead, she continued to move through the streets in her wolf for, right until she made it to the museum. On one side were the protests, on the other were violent shenanigans. She cared not for either in that specific moment, and it was mostly because of her tiny size that she made it through unnoticed.

Had those inside seen her transmission, she wondered. Had they heard it? Would they recognize her when she shifted back into a human and rose in all her glory? There would only be one way to tell.

Her tiny form had gotten her as far as the museum's backdoor, thanks to a small hole in the fence that was just the right size for a cub. A larger dog or wolf would not have fit through it. But once there, the limitations of stealth her form afforded her ended, and there would be no entering the building this way.

With an internal sigh, Alwine spent a precious few moments on shifting again, this time into her human form. Standing there naked, there was no shame or coy on her face, but she knew the importance of getting dressed again quickly and efficiently. Her armor donned back, her weapon safely by her side, she let the fabric drop. Alderaan's intelligence forces could collect it later if they wanted to; wolf spit and fur would not get them very far, to her knowledge. Time would tell whether or not she was wrong about that one.

From there, it was a little bit of Prince of Persia'ing the situation, as she used a nearby tree to jump up, and then the architectism of the building to slowly make her way up to the second and then third floor.

Never doubt the ability of short people to climb to high places.

Eventually, she finally made it through, and into the building.

Alwine's species, the Lupine, did not come with enough great abilities, but meta-hearing was one of the perks, and she used it now to try to suss out where exactly the meeting was. Slowly, she moved through the halls, just in time to be incredibly nearby when a female voice (belonging to Fable Solborne) said that "Agents of Chaos, we have heard of, but this seems even more sinister than their typical behavior."

"Greetings," Alwine said as she marched right in. Five feet she was, and needing to stand very straight in order to reach every inch of that height, but her chin was raised high, and the presence that she omitted belonged to someone easily a few times her size. But had they seen her transmission? Without knowing, she could potentially say something stupid enough to ruin the next part.

Instead, she merely looked at those who had gathered, her gaze never faltering, never seeming ashamed or shy even for a fraction of a moment.

And smiled.

 

[Xenro]

Xenro held out his left arm, and the sleeve fell away. Down the length, from wrist to elbow, a line of red blossomed open. Fresh, hot blood pumped from the open wound and sloshed to the city street. In glugs and slurps, the viscera wept from him. With his eyes closed, the Sith Lord whispered incoherently and his body became perfectly still.

Sith Sorcery was an art many delved into without true understanding of its scope. The Force gave men power to do unimaginable things, but all acts beyond comprehension came at a cost. In order to warp reality itself, the universe exacted a toll.

Alderaan drank of his essence. He suffused his blood with the darkness that he claimed with his sacrifice. Natural life, willingly given.

The wound hissed, sizzled, and twisted. Steam rose from where his form responded to the Living Force as it sealed their contract. The cut blackened and the skin around it became necrotic.

When his eyes reopened, they fixated on the Museum.

 

[Republic Engineering]

Alderaan // Aldera City // Museum of Antiquities.
Mark [+00:11] After Operation Commencement.
Objective: Defend the Diplomats from Hostile Threats.
Secondary Objective: Passively Recon Imperium Personnel.
Available Resources: [Click.]
Friendly Assets: The Republic >> Sigma Squad, The Grayson Imperium.
Neutral Variables: The Jedi.
Possible Hostiles?: Disgruntled Locals, Problem Children.

It took almost everything that Gideon had to keep up with the relentless pace set-forth by the coterie of Jedi and the Droid. The Warrior-Scholars were attuned to the energy field that permeated the entirety of existence and was capable of manipulating its currents to propel themselves forward at breakneck speeds. The Automaton, on the other hand, didn’t have the curse of flesh to restrict their movements and could dash through the streets without care for exhaustion or fatigue. The Commandos of Sigma Squad, however, didn’t have the benefits of a synthetic body nor the ability to use their minds to alter the ebb and flow of reality. Instead, they were bound together by hardened enamel and flesh - then coated in heavy semi-powered armour.

The poisonous tendrils of enervation were starting to seep into their muscular frames, marginally slowing their pace as they neared the Museum proper.

It was then that an automated function of their collectively-issued armour kicked in. Combat stims were injected into their musculature and flowed freely through their veins scant seconds after a connection was made. The effects were almost instantaneous, as the chemical cocktail diffused through their system and reinvigorated weary muscles. While the others experienced similar effects when injected with such a potent dose of combat stims, Gideon felt his entire world become incredibly sharp; where details became more clearly defined. His mind raced then, as well. It ran over the multitude of possibilities whilst listening to DAC speak of the events that inevitably led to their temporary partnership.

The Droid was right.

Republic Intelligence would doubtlessly want one of these Agents alive for interrogation. Not only to get answers regarding the reasoning behind this attack but to further understand the insanity behind the showman’s curtain. Clearly, there was more to these Agents than meets the eye. However, the issue that Gideon had with the avenue of apprehension was what if they desired not to be captured? There was little use trying to interrogate a corpse. While there was a possibility of reviving the cadaver for a limited time, as suggested by the Sith’s fondness for necromancy - it’d be utterly uncouth to ask a Jedi to defy the balance of nature and bring the dead back to life.

To say that the man was in a delicate position and that he needed to tread carefully is an understatement. One wrong step and his mission would be a failure - resulting in a blow that the nascent Republic would likely never recover from. He felt his teeth clench. Sigma Squad was slapped between a rock and a hard place and was expected to not only safeguard the delegates - but respect the wishes of the native Alderaani people. Damn them, Gideon thought. They made things much harder than they needed to be. Why did the Republic have to come to this pretentious little world in the first place? There were so many questions that found themselves without answers.

He felt enraged. That chemically-enhanced anger fueled his movements and propelled him forward.

It wasn’t long after the departed the seclusion of the side street that the Party came before the towering structure of the Museum. The building itself was surrounded on all sides by a kaleidoscopic mess of flashing lights and sights that assailed all of the sapient being’s major sensory organs. On one side of the structure, small fires were lit amongst a proverbial sea of bobbing picket signs - where a portion of the Alderaani populace chanted and jeered at the building, hoping that their voices would be heard. There was even an interesting item of note that could be seen from the Museum’s exterior, as one of the Alderaani Nobles stepped out into the protesting crowd surrounded by militant protectors. They were few in number, their presence did little to dissuade the crowd’s ululations.

On the other side of the Museum, things took a turn for the worse. What began as a peaceful protest turned into a full-blown riot. The corrupting influence of panic settled into the minds of many after an unknown assailant fired a blaster, forcing dozens of people to scatter to the winds in search of safety. However, many remained that acted out with extreme displays of violence. Various objects were thrown, and the Local Law Enforcement Agency found themselves doing whatever they could to keep the Riot contained - without resorting to pacifying gases and brutality. They believed that calmer heads would inevitably win the day.

Sadly, that would not be the case.

There were reports that individuals brandishing crimson lightsabres were brazenly attacking Imperium soldiers in the streets as they patrolled the area alongside their Alderaani and Republic counterparts. Two individuals stated they were here to kill those within the Museum because of the alleged power they held over multiple systems, seeking to do nothing but bring about total anarchy. More recently than those reported issues, however, was that an infiltrator was spotted within the Museum proper and allegedly wielded an extinguished lightsabre when confronted by an Imperium patrol.

Upon hearing this, Gideon found himself spitting out a stream of ceaseless expletives that cursed the Alderaani Government. Of all the damned places they’d elect to have this bloody meeting, a Museum was the best they could have to offer. If the Commando didn’t swear to uphold the values and morality of the Republic, he’d likely have executed the Emis-

No.

That was the combat stims talking. The Commando needed to regain control. Anger, while useful in many respects, was also poisonous to the mind. It leeched all logical sensibilities from one’s collected centre - turning them into berserkers blinded by their own emotions. Gideon was better than that. He needed to be better than that, especially when essential lives were on the line.

:: We’ve got a problem,:: Gideon growled through clenched teeth as yet another report found its way onto his visor. :: We’ve got infiltrators inside the Museum.::

He didn’t wait for the others to respond to this news. Now, it was their time to shine. The first thing that needed to be done was establishing Fire Superiority - which meant that one of his Commandos was required to break away from the pack and take a position at a much higher elevation. Wordlessly, Gideon ordered Whisper to scale a nearby building and swap his weapon over to its sniper configuration. Not only would the Commando be able to engage targets at a much greater distance, but with the high ground - he’d be able to see everything within sight and provide fire support to those below. The rest would follow their Commanding Officer into the building proper…

However, that would be an issue. With a riot raging on one side of the building and a protest on the other - the points of ingress were few and far between. They wouldn’t be able to enter the building unseen. That meant the Squad would have to improvise. They would make their own entrance.

:: We can’t access the building through the Front or Rear entrances,:: The Lieutenant pointed out, before turning his visor away from the Chaos that transpired before him. :: We’re making a side entrance. Whoever that was that got into the building, we can’t let them get to the Delegates.::

I only hope whatever exhibit is on this side of the Museum isn’t filled with priceless replicas, the man thought to himself as he ordered Hatchet to blow a hole in the wall. ​

With several swift and practised movements, the Commando reconfigured his rifle into a dedicated anti-armour platform. A single grenade was loaded into the flexible chamber, and the Republic Soldier sighted his target. Once they were within range, the trigger was pulled, and the explosive device was lobbed towards the building. When it impacted, the detonation wasn’t silent. In fact, it was the furthest thing from. An oscillated pulse, emitted by the sonic grenade caused the stone-like substance coating the exterior of the Museum to slough off the structure like rendered fat - before forcibly expelled outwards by the kinetic blast microseconds later. Who knew what damages incurred within the structure, let alone what priceless replicas or artifacts were destroyed in the process.

Gideon didn’t care. It was likely that they could be replaced, in some fashion or another. The lives he was destined to protect, on the other hand? Those wouldn’t be easy to replace, despite the myriad advances in Cloning. They took priority over the material objects that once mattered to some ancient long-dead society. In addition to the relics lost to the explosion, it was likely that the Riot would become even more frenzied, resulting in irreparable damage to various pieces of equipment and personnel. Hell, it was also possible that the Protest on the other side of the Museum would escalate to match the upheaval on the other side.

The Lieutenant pushed all of those possibilities aside. All that mattered was getting to the Conclave and safeguarding those within from harm. As the aftereffects of the sonic detonation subsided, Gideon was the first to rush into the breach. He vaulted over crumbling stonework and landed amidst the devastation with his rifle shouldered. With his helmet auto-cycling through various vision filters - the Commando moved into the Museum proper and began making his way toward his distant charges - totally ignorant of the newfound bloodshed transpiring outside.

:: Sigma Squad, Fan out and secure the area. I’m headed up to get the delegates ready for Exfil.::​

INTERACTING WITH: | Dak | Kaleleon | Salamander | Avo |
NEARBY: | Raona Cadera | Fable Solborne | Faith Organa | P Placeholder 0128 | Maou | Cataline Holt | Steve Holt | Vale Vynar | Xenro | Alwine Daye | Myrium Okar | Denzul Yorkell |​

 

[Faith Organa]

Location: The Museum
Interacting with Fable Solborne | P Placeholder 0128 | Maou | Republic Engineering

Faith found herself biting her nails as she stared out the window. She could see the familiar uniforms of the Knights walking into the crowd she knew her son was there. Anxiety began to twist within her she had already lost a son, and a brother to sith and war. She could not lose another it would break her for certain. Somewhere her daughter L Laira Darkhold moved among the stars seeking out the leaders of such movements as this right now on Alderaan. Laira was the rebel in their family.

But only a few knew where she was and what she was doing. It was safer for the heir to the throne of Alderaan to be somewhere that wasn't here as she fulfilled her duties as she outlined on the Day of Demand. She carried with her the sword the Rhindon Sword and ancient piece of ceremony that represented the rite of passage for any heir to the throne.

Faith could not push down the uneasiness, "Do we have someone who can walk through the museum and check the rooms with me." She was not of the force and she had only touch of it that gave her connection to her riduur Draco and her brother Theo. It was the distractions outside that made her ask she couldn't help it. While she was here as a host to the meeting