Junction The Sundering Dawn | Act II: Galaxy in Crisis (Chapter 1 | Cross Roads)

[Darth Empyrean]

Objective 1 | Cross Roads
Karath Station, Neutral Mid‑Rim Orbit

The ancient trade‑hub shuddered as the last diplomatic shuttle eased into its cradle. Once the pride of Muunilinst’s banking fleets, Karath Station now floated half‑lit and half‑lawless in lonely orbit—refurbished just enough for a single, fragile purpose: bring the Galaxy’s rivals to the same table before the Sundering finished what entropy had begun.

Armored peacekeepers in split‑color livery ringed every airlock. Their neural pikes crackled warning arcs while a prerecorded announcement rolled across the concourse in Basic, Huttese, Mando’a, and High Sith: “Karath Station is sovereign neutral ground. Discharge of plasma or Force will trigger auto‑vent protocols. You have been advised.” The words echoed beneath the oxidized ribs of a vaulted promenade where merch‑stalls once hawked banking bonds; now holoprojectors hovered in their place, looping fragments of nightmare‑visions captured from Jedi temples, Sith oubliettes, Mandalorian spirit‑walks.

Delegations trickled in: crimson‑robed Sith archivists flanked by silent, tattooed enforcers; Jedi researchers cloaked against imagined Sinister auras; Mandalorian field‑marshals in storm‑scored beskar, helmet visors flickering tactical readouts. Corporate attaches in synth‑silk discreetly traded data‑chips for transit permits while GA officers logged every exchange with stoic efficiency. No one sat. The tension kept participants on their feet, pivoting always toward the nearest exit—or the nearest potential adversary.

At the chamber’s center, a circular holotable roared to life. Foliated glyphs—triangle‑and‑line of Blood, fractured mirror of Echo, compass‑rose of Axis—rotated above a star‑map speckled with red “X” markers where hyperlanes had imploded only hours before. A Jedi archivist cleared her throat, blue eyes sweeping the hall. “We are gathered,” she announced, voice carrying through comm‑magnifiers, “to assemble our shards of prophecy into a single, survivable truth.” A Sith loremaster replied with a dry laugh. “Survivable—for whom?”

The holotable cycled to live‑feed panes: Odacer‑Faustin’s polar storm fronts; the Silent Mirror pocket’s ghost‑fleet telemetry; the rusted spire’s gravity‑sheared cartography. Microphones unlocked. Slices of vacant airtime ticked away like countdowns. Somewhere behind the escorts’ mirrored visors, blasters loosened in holsters; beneath robe sleeves, thumbs brushed activator studs of hidden sabers.

Now the floor was open—every faction free to project its vision recordings, levy accusations, or bargain for missing coordinates. For a breathless moment no one moved, the Galaxy balanced on the edge of its own unraveling. Then, almost simultaneously, light and darkness flickered across the holoscreens as rivals stepped forward to speak—each wondering whether the next words traded here would stitch reality together… or slit it a little wider.

 

[Drazen Lutris]

Drazen arrived just as he had meant to - early. Others were trailing in behind him, but he was the first to find his marked seat among the massive congregational table. He smiled at his cross-table neighbors, who he would no doubt be staring at for the next few hours. To his left and right, nobody sat - not yet - but they would.

And, as much as he wanted to royally mess this up for everyone, it wouldn't do to lose the Galaxy just for the joy of an insult.

He cleared his throat and stood;

"I am Drazen Lutris. Many of you may not know me, but you no doubt know of my brother, Darth Empyrean. I am here on the Sith Empire's behalf to first break away these false notions that the Blackwall had anything to do with the current climate. The Sith are as... surprised about all this as anyone else.", he said, motioning to the others as though to reassure them it was true, or to seek vindication.

"This entire ordeal is widdershins. We will share what we can and will - firstly, that there was a vision of Odacer-Faustin given to us after some unknown breach allowed the future-gleamers to actually see whatever prophecy is at hand without dying. With that said, we have deployed teams to Odacer-Faustin in the hopes of retreiving whatever lies below the surface, and we will graciously keep the other parties informed of what is to come.", he said with a gleam of his pearly white teeth.

"We, of course, expect the Galaxy to recriprocate. We understand a joint venture has been deployed in other areas, and the Emperor has gone to Tython to assist in the retrieval of whatever lay there. They will report to us as needed.", he said.

"As I understand, we have all been given private rooms we are allowed to depart to at any time. Do as you need with your governmental diplomats, but understand this..."

He rested his hands on the table, serious.

"The Sith did not do this, and we are willing to - for once - work with you all to achieve some semblance of normality. Just this once."

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Ashin took off the mask of Anger and laid it on the table, revealing her original face: human, pale, sharp-featured, with dark straight hair. Otherwise she wore black armourweave robes and went unarmed except for a glossy black cane of knotted wood.

"I'm Captain Ashin Varanin." The name might be recognized as the Empress of the Sith Empire almost seventy years ago, and captain of a notorious academy ship for most of living memory. "The unknown breach that Drazen Lutris mentions, which unlocked the mass visions that drew us here, was my doing — a ritual that I designed and conducted at significant cost. Here is what I saw for my pains."

She set a deceptively small holo unit on the table. It projected a partial star map of no known region. She let the map speak for itself and did not comment on the limited extent to which she knew what it actually showed. Her contacts were still working on it. Others here might recognize it. It wasn't everything she'd learned in ritual, but she'd picked it as a good-faith offering that could unlock further information.