Faction [GA | DE/ER] End of the Core Wars

[Valery Noble]

​

For years, the Core had burned. The Dark Empire’s invasion, its ruthless plan to shatter the Galactic Alliance from within, had begun with the impossible — a fleet appearing from nowhere over Tython, emerging through the lingering wound in the Force from the cataclysmic battle fought there years prior. From that moment, the Core Wars had begun, a brutal campaign that saw world after world fall beneath the Empire’s crushing advance.

Tython, Empress Teta, Prakith — all of them fell.

The Alliance fought desperately to hold the line, but the Dark Empire struck like a storm, carving through the heart of the Core. Coruscant itself had been the prize, a decisive blow meant to cripple the Alliance forever by targeting its very heart. But there, the war changed. The assault was stopped, the tide of conquest broken. What followed was a long and bitter conflict — one that neither side could truly claim victory in.

The Alliance struck back, launching a counteroffensive to reclaim Tython, but the Dark Empire’s defenses proved unshakable. The war stagnated, grinding into a deadly war of attrition. The Alliance, forced to protect its borders from Mandalorian and Sith incursions, had no choice but to fortify its hold over the region, holding back the darkness instead of driving it out. The Dark Empire, too, was tested, its forces locked in battle with the Diarchy, preventing them from further consolidating their gains.

Then, in the chaos of war, the unexpected happened.

From within the occupied worlds, rebellion ignited. The Foundation, a resistance movement that had simmered beneath the Empire’s rule, rose up and struck at the oppressors. What could not been done through open warfare, the rebellion did through defiance. The Dark Empire, unwilling to fight a prolonged insurgency, chose to withdraw — but not without leaving scars. Cities burned, infrastructure lay in ruins, and in their final act of cruelty, the Empire left devastation in its wake.

Now, the Dark Empire is gone from the Core. But in its place remains a wounded region, desperate for stability, for aid, for hope. The Alliance moves in once more — not as conquerors, but as rebuilders, protectors, and guardians of the worlds that once stood as the foundation of civilization.

But the scars of war do not heal overnight. The Core is free — but fragile.

And now, it is up to the Alliance to make the next move.

Objective I — Rebuild, Restore, Resupply
(GA)​

With the Dark Empire's withdrawal, the worlds of Tython, Empress Teta, and Prakith stand in ruins — scarred by war, their people left struggling to survive amidst the devastation. Now, the Galactic Alliance moves in not as conquerors, but as healers.

Humanitarian aid teams deploy across the war-torn planets, distributing essential supplies, rebuilding critical infrastructure, and providing medical care to those who have suffered through occupation and conflict. From the shattered streets of the cities to the desolate ruins of Tython's ancient structures, the task is immense. Refugee camps must be secured, power grids restored, and communities reunited.

The Core is free, but its wounds still bleed. It's up to the Alliance to begin the long road to recovery.

Possible angles:

• Join Jonyna Si on Tython to rebuild the ancient Jedi Temple, as a beacon of Hope and reminder of our perseverance.
• Offer the Core Worlds supplies, heal the wounded and aid to civilians in the aftermath of the Empire's destructive withdrawal.
• Go out and talk to the people to have lost relatives, their homes or have been caught in the crossfire.

Objective II — Shadow Business
(NJO | SIA)​

While the military and Jedi move to assist the Core Worlds in large numbers, Jedi Shadows and operatives also work in the shadows.

The SIA has uncovered what they believe to be a hidden Dark Empire intelligence facility buried deep within a ravine on Tython. Agents deploy, rappelling down to infiltrate the site — only to trigger an alarm. A countdown begins. With the facility set to self-destruct, they must race against time to extract vital intelligence before it's lost forever.

Meanwhile, on Tython, Council Member Corazona von Ascania leads Jedi in purging the lingering dark side corruption left in the war's wake. Twisted creatures, Sith-spawned horrors, and echoes of suffering in the terrain itself stand in their way.

Objective III — Return
(GA Senate)​

With the Dark Empire gone, Chancellor Alicio Organa has called an important session of the Galactic Senate to decide the future of the Alliance's heart — Coruscant. Once the crown jewel of the Core, the Alliance moved to Fondor when the Dark Empire threatened to target the Senate. Now, as the wounds of conflict begin to heal, the Senate must vote on its official return to Coruscant as the capital of the Galactic Alliance.

To mark the end of one war, and the beginning of a stronger Alliance.

Objective IV — Empire Left Behind
(GA | DE/ER)​

The Dark Empire may have withdrawn from the Core, but not all of its forces left with it. Stranded remnants — soldiers, officers, and warlords — now find themselves in Galactic Alliance space, their bastion in the Core gone but their allegiances unbroken. Some hide among the ruins, seeking refuge in the chaos left behind, while others refuse to surrender, launching sporadic attacks and acts of sabotage to destabilize the Alliance's efforts to rebuild.

Amidst this unrest, elements of the former Dark Empire's navy — now calling themselves the Empire Reborn — have returned, dispatching rescue vessels to extract their stranded personnel and assets. These evacuations pose a direct threat to the Alliance's security, providing a means for insurgents and dangerous criminals to escape. To prevent this, the Alliance has deployed interception teams to track and neutralize these extraction efforts.

Possible angles:

• DE/ER stragglers have been left behind and must be found by the Alliance before they can escape.
• Some have chosen to stay behind and cause more Chaos while the Dark Empire withdraws. It's up to the Alliance to find and stop them before they can cause more devastation on their way out.
• The Empire Reborn has sent evacuation vessels to withdraw their people and assets. Target these to prevent them from withdrawing a force powerful enough to rise again.
• For those of the Empire Reborn, cause as much destruction on your way out as you can!

BYOO
Do you have a different story you'd like to tell? Bring your own Objective!
​

---

This story is open to members of the Galactic Alliance and Dark Empire/Empire Reborn. If you're not part of these Factions, please reach out in DM's to request permission to join!​

 

[Monaray Dod]

The Neimoidian felt a sense of satisfaction with the disappearance of the Dark Empire from the Core Worlds, aside from a few lingering remnants and warlords who had failed to escape in time. He was assured that the Alliance Defense Forces would efficiently eliminate the remaining resistance with little difficulty, as an important day had come.

The restoration of hyperspace travel to Tython, Empress Teta, and Prakith indicated that the Trade Federation of Planets could recover any technology left behind from the imperial occupation to sell to the Empire Reborn once it established a new base. However, they diligently chose to delay their actions until the New Jedi Order's relief fleet completed its mission of aiding the refugees in their reconstruction efforts.

This caution stemmed from the understanding that without a governing body, there would be no individuals to ensnare in debt.

It was just common business sense, and so Senator Dod entered into the Alliance General Ministry Canton for quite possibly the last time, bringing along two Trade Federation Envoys who were essential for providing legal and economic counsel during the senate conference.

He was also in contact with Trade Monarch Lodd Grimmin and Senior Viceroy Veyko Agapoui to ensure they had enough political influence to sway the Federal Assembly to restore the Planet of Coruscant as the rightful Capital of the Galactic Alliance.

"Let us hope that the Chancellor does not celebrate to soon. After all the downfall of one imperial regime just inspires dozens more." Dod said underneath his breath referencing the fact that the New Imperial Order split into different imperial factions which equally cause headaches for the Galactic Alliance.

​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

The air on Tython was heavy.

Not just with the scent of scorched earth and lingering decay, but with something deepe r— something woven into the very fabric of the Force. The land here had once pulsed with life, a beacon of Light. But now, after everything, after the wars, after the corruption that had seeped into its soil, it was wounded.

And it needed to be healed.

Valery stood at the edge of a fractured ridge, her gaze sweeping across the twisted remains of what had once been sacred ground. The wind whispered through shattered trees and her long hair, carrying echoes of the past — of battles fought, of blood spilled, of Tython's history carved into its very foundation. She could feel it all pressing against her senses. The weight of the Jedi who had walked these paths before her. The scars left behind by war.

Beside her, Kahlil stood silent and steady. He had always been her shield, but today, his presence meant more than just protection. This wasn't just another mission. This was Tython. A world that had shaped them, tested them, broken them. And now, they were here to set it right.

"It's good to be back," she told him with a soft smile, "You know what I'm planning to do, so you know I'm really going to need your help. Your protection, but also your strength through our bond." She looked up to him, eyes searching for his gaze, before she reached for his hand.

"Let's do this, together."

Kahlil Noble ​

 

[Jack Wright]

(OBJ. I: Restore the ancient Temple
Tags: OPEN)

Every world had its own definition of beauty, depending how one angled it. But for Jack, seeing the old world where destiny intertwined with the physical world, the very heart where their breathren once started.

It felt like coming home.

Oh sure, the Temple was a wreck, now, but even tattered, the symbol of Jedi's birthright were a spectacle in both the eyes, and the Force. Under a clear sky that magnified Tython's endless, vast beauty.

Jack allowed himself to admire history in what counted as the courtyard of the Temple, in no hurry yet to get his hands dirty and restore their ancient home. His nostrils inhaled deep, the bearded smile widening in a note of anticipation. Ohh there was a giddiness bubbling inside, he always wanted to visit Tython at least once in his lifetime, to stand on his soil.

Now here he was, about to help bring it back from the brink of darkness to full magnificence.

And he got to step his foot into it, what can possibly get better?!

 

[Lyandra Thalorin]

Lyandra was tired.

She'd been up all-night reading about everything that had happened precipitating the move to Fondor from Coruscant, digesting the decisions that had necessitated the change. Getting away from the Dark Empire's forces made sense, but Fondor was also close to the Sith territories. Truth be told, there really wasn't anywhere that could be considered safe from being invaded at any moment. You lived with the good just as well as you lived with the potential for bad.

Upon entering the senate chamber, she could see that others were still filing in, and that Alicio was not yet present. Not unexpected. The Chancellor was often busy right up until the moment before a meeting was set to begin.

Settling into her seat, she sipped from a warm cup of Caf while looking over the agenda for the meeting. It was as expected. The point was to discuss whether or not to move them back to Coruscant from Fondor. She saw the wisdom in moving further from Sith space, but at the same time, all the moving around made for a logistical nightmare. She wasn't opposed to staying or going, really. Staying did mean that the local populace got a boon from their presence, though. Coruscant didn't really need that.

Her decision was still up in the air.

---

ATTIRE: LINK | WEAPONS: BLASTER

TAGS: Monaray Dod | Alicio Organa ​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

OBJ II
OPEN | Everest Vale Reina Daival Connel Vanagor Caelan Valoren​

"Our preliminary survey indicates a concentration of drengir in the forests surrounding the temple. For those who haven't had the misfortune of encountering them, drengir are sentient plant-like beings born of the Dark side.”

A hologram flared to life in front of the gathered Jedi, displaying an image of the carnivorous beasts. Writhing masses of green and brown foliage with thorns, vine-like limbs, and an array of sharp teeth lining their cavernous mouths.

"Be wary of their teeth, and be cautious of the poison secreted by their tentacles. Above all else, do not falter in their presence. They inspire dread, they may attempt to turn you against the Light and fight alongside them."

"Or they will try to eat you. Drengir are capable of resisting most blaster fire and healing themselves from lightsaber wounds. Abilities such as Force Light and plant surge will be useful. Pyrokinesis should be limited to only those with masterful control; we do not want to burn down the entire forest."

At last, Tython has fallen back into the hand of Ashla.

"Now!" Cora called, her jaw clenched tight.

With both hands extended, she'd taken temporary control of the vines belonging to two separate drengir and woven them together, effectively tangling the pair of creatures in their own limbs. They struggled and thrashed; one opened its maw wide to let out a scream that could shatter glass.

It took concentration to keep the two creatures immobilized, but it opened them up to be cleansed by her fellow Jedi.

The Darkness was persistent. It did not give way so easily, and Tython had become so entrenched in it that such vile creatures had spawned.

The Light’s work would continue.

 

[Ilri Mel]

(Obj. III
Tags: Alicio Organa , Monaray Dod , Lyandra Thalorin )

It's not that Ilri was ignorant of Senate matters, just she often didn't bother with them with her own work taking up the main priority. However, for a momentous occasion such as this, returning back to the Main Capital?

She wouldn't miss it for the world.

Taking her own seat reserved for the Kiffu representatives, Ilri smoothed her robes, datapad in hand, and rested one hand upon her lap, eager for the proceedings to come underway. There was plenty to discuss, and this time she'd be a part of it. Amber eyes stared unblinking, there'd be much to unfold before everyone agrees to return home.

 

[Darth Moskvin]

Core Something...Who Cares?

"Horrors, I believe, should be original--the use of common myths and legends being a weakening influence."
- H.P. Lovecraft -
​

Objective: III - Return
Gear: In Sig
​

O'Death​

My former Master had repeatedly tried, tirelessly, to beat into me that my curiosity would be my undoing, constantly he used some ancient phrase about curiosity and a cat; and yet he lays rotting on a faraway planet because my cat's curiosity bit him. I knew how to play hide and seek, well, and enjoyed the feeling with a virgin's girl school crush of that girl who sat behind at her desk in class; the type we all know, that one specific feeling. That's what I felt walking about the Jedi and their minions, curiosity. A virgin's curiosity.

I had the unpleasant pleasure to meet the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order, and we were still working out the creepy crawlers of what I wanted from her, but shh....that's a secret. My reason for haunting the Senate in my ghostly form was not as much as for political reasons, but for my own reasons. I needed to hear, with my own undead ears, what they were hoping to achieve; and what they were going to do about the Sith problem.

Sith. Those shivers.

I wasn't no fool. I knew my name didn't hold as much as attention as the Sith's puppet Emperor or his "children"; and that's because it was of my choosing. Can't be a phantom of the galaxy if every little child is scared by your stories, constantly looking under their beds for the boogeyman; no, be that monster of visual scares. Let them see the rot fall from you, the bugs falling from your mouth as you speak with facts and truths of what you plan to do to them. That's me....the real boogeyman....in flesh.

So, like a poorly dressed pauper wearing tattered clothes and feeding a bird like a crazy woman, I sat in the back on the convention as it was every republican citizen's right to do so, waiting for the tiresome speeches to commence. I blended myself well, masking my Force presence as my Master taught me, oh that fool who taught me to well, playing the role of concerned citizen, propping my feet atop a railing. This was going to be good.....oh so good.

 

[Tiber Septimus]

OBJ III

Tags: Alicio Organa | Monaray Dod | Lyandra Thalorin | Ilri Mel

As freshman Senator, Tiberius "Tiber" Septimus III strode into the Senate chambers for the first time, the air felt...heavy. Buzzing with something. Anticipation? Nervous energy? Was he thinking it, or sensing it?

Tiber tightened his mental shields, making himself small just in case- no need to broadcast that, not until it was to his advantage or gods forbid, necessary. Satisfied, he turns his mental energy towards the vote as he seated himself in the pod reserved for Niahelios.

The vote seemed straightforward enough- the Alliance had moved it's capital out of prudence; the Empire's blitz through GA space had been remarkable as it was terrifying, culminating with the Imperial's violent attack on the heart of democracy. But it seemed like it was always a temporary measure; for many, Coruscant was symbolic of the Alliance. And with the Empire dissipating seemingly overnight, it seemed like the right time.

Tiber wasn't so sure.

That the Imperial war machine fractured so...seamlessly (granted, it was in the face of rebellion and an sustained assault by the Diarchy) gave him pause. The Dark Empire had arisen as an nightmarish amalgam of Imperials and Darksiders. They organized without detection, and struck without any warning from the SIA. What's to say the Alliance's intelligence apparatus hadn't failed again?

Tiber would need assurances- and strong ones at that- before the he voted for the Alliance to begin the process of returning to Coruscant.

 

[Jackson Lesan]

Wearing: xxx
Tag: Vera Noble

Jackson Lesan wiped the sweat from his forehead, smearing dust across his face in the process. His arms ached, his tunic clung to his back, and the acrid scent of burned duracrete filled his lungs. Around him, the ruins of Empress Teta stretched like the broken bones of a fallen giant, twisted durasteel beams, shattered transparisteel, streets lined with the husks of buildings that once stood as monuments to civilization.

The Dark Empire was gone, but its shadow still lingered.

Jackson gritted his teeth as he reached out with the Force grasping onto a massive slab of debris that had once been part of a some building’s upper floors. With a slow, controlled motion he lifted it aside, revealing a pathway beneath. Relief workers and engineers moved forward, carrying supplies and scanning for survivors. They wouldn’t find any, not this long after the Empire’s withdrawal, but that wasn’t the point. Clearing the rubble and rebuilding what had been lost while offering hope to those who had lived through the worst was what mattered now.

A child clung to her mother nearby, watching him with wide, weary eyes. Jackson smiled, lowering himself to one knee.

"This was your home, wasn’t it?" he asked gently.

The little girl nodded. She couldn’t have been older than six, her clothes threadbare, her eyes dull with exhaustion. War had stolen her childhood, just as it had stolen so much from this world.

Jackson reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a small toy, a wooden tooka, carved and painted with care. He pressed it into her hands.

"I found this in the rubble," he lied, his voice warm. "It must have been waiting for you to come back."

Her tiny fingers curled around it, and for the first time since he had arrived, he saw something flicker in her eyes, something fragile, something precious.

Hope.

Jackson stood and turned back to his work, looking at the other Jedi who was with him. His hands weren’t meant to wield a weapon today. Not here. Not now. The war had already been fought. What mattered now was what came after.

And as he looked around at the broken city, the wounded people, and the slow but steady efforts to rebuild, he knew that this, more than any battle, was what it truly meant to be a Jedi.

“We should head to the distribution lines and see if they need any help,” he said to Vera Noble . “I think we have cleared what we can without some heavy machinery to help.”

 

[Caelan Valoren]

Cora did good work, as always. She was the one who had taught him the skill that had been essential to helping him and Valery survive their encounter on the research station that had nearly sent him spiraling into darkness. The skills with the light, with cleansing, that she had taught him had saved him more than once.

Now he was on Tython for the second time in his life, returned after the world was abandoned by the forces of the Dark Empire, for some unknown reason, left in a state of ruin and darkness. The last time he had been there had nearly destroyed a young boy. Now he was a man, no longer a padawan learner, but a Knight capable of handling his own without the need for someone to look after him as had been the case the first time around. This time he was ready for whatever horrors might befall them.

Both of his hands were empty of lightsabers, and as Cora held the Drengir aloft, he let the Light rise within him to the point the entirety of his eyes turned white, just as they had on the station. Light burst forth from his hands and bore down upon the dark creatures as he entrusted the remainder of the group to keep them safe from whatever else might be lurking nearby, or other Drengir. Probably other Drengir. Though he knew there were giant spiders running loose out there somewhere too. One of them had tried to kill him before.

He didn't fancy getting jumped by one of them again.

---

ATTIRE: Link | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace), Prosthetic Left Arm

TAGS: Corazona von Ascania | Connel Vanagor | Reina Daival | Everest Vale​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"For once the script is flipped, it seems."

Kahlil chuckled lightly as he looked about the ruined land. A hint of mirth in the otherwise oppressive dread. The Dark had done it's damnedest to root out the Light completely, but they cold still feel it. The call of the Force had brought them here, to where it could truly be felt still under that haze. He could feel, the thrum of defiance, the struggle of life.

He knew well what that felt like.

Runes traced over the ground, random in appearance but long mastered by the Jedi to give the sequence he needed. Traps, barriers, other such tricks he might need. A Sorcerer was only as strong as they were prepared, and if he was going to be sharing his strength with Valery, he needed to ensure he was that much more prepared than ever.

"Feel free to begin. When they come, I'll be ready."

Valery Noble

 

[Damian du Couteau]

Damian du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta
Location: Empress Teta, Cinnagar, Royal Palace Outskirts
Outfit

Damian moved carefully though the remodeling of the Royal Palace, any semblance of the old Krath regime to be thrown out. Out of sight out of mind. The young du Couteau heir knew better than that of course, tragedy and misery were perfect grounds for unrest. Even as those heavy thoughts of reconciliation weighed on him, Damian could not but help feel awake and energized. Back in the Senate he had mostly found himself tired and somewhat miserable. It would take quite a bit for Damian find himself off planet and as far he knew there was only one person who could tell him leave.

Speaking of, I hope my surrogate does not suffer for too long.

There was a vote to where the Alliance capital should relocate, it hardly mattered to Damian as he knew he would find himself neck deep in data-slate work all the same. Not that he silently hoped for a return to Coruscant, but he tempered his expectations.

The mood thus far among many Nobles and those of the Mining Guild was apprehensive as the relationships rekindled and work continued to advance. The bitterness many of the population held had been given plenty of time to grow and with the apathetic end that was the Empire? No catharsis, while the Alliance fleets above no real sense of joy or hope. Twice the Alliance Fleet had sworn to protect them, and twice they had been forced to retreat. If a third attack happens what difference would there be?

Damian paused a moment, he stared back outside the Palace and wondered how much effort he would need to help stabilize an image. He wasn’t his father with the natural charisma and often enjoyed his appearance in the HoloNews, Damian only had his data-slate and quite an ability for mathematics. To inspire hope, a difficult notion. Hope for what? Dangerous thoughts enter Damian’s head, he had enough to worry about but fear gnawed at the edges of his mind.
​

|| Open ||​

 

[Iris Arani]

Objective I — Rebuild, Restore, Resupply

​

"You three, over there. Start tagging them black, red, yellow, and green as you learned. Healers, get to the red immediately. No holding back, use the Force. Yellow, use your judgement on if you need it or not. The more you pull on the Force, the weaker in turn you'll be for the next. Greens can wait. Give them some pain meds and move on."

Needless to say, if they were tagged with black they were already gone. There was no telling just the amount of destruction that waited for the healers after the retreat of the Imperials. Chaos was their nature when control failed, after all. Iris remembered that well. She rolled up her sleeves, washing her hands vigorously before glancing to her Padawan beside her.

"You're with me. We'll work on people together. Focus on what I do, learn as we go. These people's lives are in our hands." She shook off the extra moisture, taking a breath. They were going to have to move quick, one patient after another. They could handle that. All of them could.

"Let's begin."

Zaiya Ceti | Shan

 

[Jaidan Shatani]

Strange. Much as he knew he'd never been in any danger of truly forgetting it, it had not taken long for this feeling to become somewhat novel again. Like an old jacket, perhaps, that you'd thought misplaced beyond recall. Yet when donned once more, the old synthleather was as comfortable, as worn to your unique contours as it had ever been. It was...nice. Quite lovely, really.

Tython. Not simply the true birthplace of the Jedi Order, but a living memory to a truly ancient past. Tens of thousands of generations removed now, yet that was but the candle's flicker to the Force itself, woven inextricably into the fabric of creation. The Force had witnessed all, the Force had not forgotten, and for one capable of listening, the Force shared freely here. As one fascinated by things old and forgotten, it had been a hard thing indeed to find this place lost to him, seized by those who saw that richness and valued it only as a means of more effectively spiting those who revered it. Yes, he'd found ways of occupying himself, made himself useful in the battle for Coruscant and a great many other places that would be all but forgotten in a few generations. But to be back...it felt like he could breathe again.

And he'd known just where to go first. A disciplined and accomplished mind could achieve harmony of a sort under the most trying of circumstances. He'd had need of that talent often in recent days. Yet outward harmony never hurt, and in all his years, he'd never borne witness to a tranquility quite like that which could be offered up by the Silent Desert. The austerity of the landscape, the unique absence of sound which many had found so unsettling...it all meant that the mind had little attempting to intrude there. It left him free to gaze up at the night sky, and contemplate Ashla and Bogan. He had emerged from his meditation there renewed in mind, body, and very much spirit.

Which was most fortunate, given that he STILL needed to make himself useful. The invaders had not abandoned this world without some mark of their passing. In truth, this was nothing new. Arguably the most barbaric and malevolent empire in known galactic history had scarred this world once, and Tython had been rich in both the Light AND Dark Side long before even the Rakata found it. Nevertheless, there existed a risk to the ongoing efforts to restore the old Temple, and he was happy to help see it dealt with.

Well...maybe not happy, exactly. Biology made these creatures troublesome to contend with physically, even with a lightsaber in hand. And while his knowledge of the Force was not trivial by any means, few of his specialties lent themselves directly to the kind of destruction required in order to put these creatures down quickly. That said, one did not always have to fight directly; he'd found himself a fairly useful support niche in short order. Telekinesis could keep them restrained well enough for a time, and if one looked past the purely physical nature of the threat, there was a weakness one could exploit. The collective consciousness of these creatures, the combined strength of many minds working in unison, was a formidable thing indeed. But with sufficient concentration, he found it entirely possible to cut off a few at a time from that guidance. And as it turned out, creatures not meant to operate by independent thought weren't all that impressive at it. Disoriented and confused, they proved far easier prey.

"If anyone is looking for choice opponents, I have a suggestion," Jaidan offered, pointing out a group of three currently stumbling about like a group of drunks who had just awoken from a few too many rounds of lum ale and were now desperately trying to remember the events which had brought them here. "Two suggestions, actually. Expedience is our friend."

Corazona von Ascania Caelan Valoren Connel Vanagor Reina Daival Everest Vale

 

[Dean Walker]

The moment the alarm blared through the facility, Dean's stomach dropped. A sharp, rapid beep-beep-beep echoed through the corridors, flashing red lights bathing the durasteel walls in an ominous glow.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," he growled under his breath.

The countdown had begun.

Without a second thought, he turned, his eyes locking onto Katarine's. There was no time to argue, no time to plan — they had to move now. "Come on!" he barked, reaching out and grabbing her hand in a firm, unrelenting grip. His fingers curled around hers, his other hand already reaching for his blaster as he yanked her forward, their boots pounding against the metal floor.

The facility was a maze of corridors and data terminals, but they didn't have the luxury of stopping to make sense of it all. Somewhere in here, the intelligence they needed was waiting — buried within the Empire's secrets, locked behind layers of encryption and security measures. But if they didn't find it fast, there wouldn't be anything left to recover.

Dean didn't slow down. Didn't hesitate. The heat of adrenaline burned through his veins as they turned a sharp corner, only to be met with the sudden, rapid approach of two Dark Empire operatives. Dean didn't even break stride. With a sharp snap, he lifted his blaster, squeezing the trigger twice. The first shot caught the nearest soldier in the shoulder, sending him crashing back into the wall. The second went wide as the other dove for cover.

"Kat, we do not have time for this," he muttered through gritted teeth, tugging her forward again as they bolted past. The beep-beep-beep of the countdown was getting faster.

They needed to find that intel. And they needed to get the hell out.

Katarine Ryiah
Stimker: Allyson Locke
​

 

[Colette]

OBJ 1 - OPEN TO ANYONE

Her legs carried her like they used to again. Maybe she couldn’t go quite as fast or stand for too long, but with each passing day it felt as if the wounds on Woostri was slowly but steadily starting to close. The nightmares would probably last her for a while, but a steady routine of meditation and self-care saw to that. Good rest and clean water was a creature comfort she had — despite her wishes not to — grown accustomed to. Not that the hospital bed was bad, but it certainly wouldn’t have been her primary bedding if she could help it.

Still, bedding wouldn’t necessarily be a problem in the next few days. Everyone had the same, and it was all the same lovely little cot. Maybe Colette was just an all-or-nothing type of personality, but there was something about her particular cot that reminded her of home. Not the Noble Homestead but rather her real home. The deserts of Ophus V still called to her despite all that had happened. To walk along the blazing dunes for endless days and endless nights, to be so in touch with your life and the lives of those around you.

If that's what she missed from a childhood spent in the shadows of those who were deemed superior to her she could only imagine what it felt like to those who had lost it as equals. Some had felt compelled to rebuild some old temple ruin, but Colette felt compelled to move towards the people. It was by their goodwill that the Jedi would be allowed to stay and it was with their help that the Jedi would continue its mission where it had left off. If that meant repairing a few houses and welding a few holes then she was all for it.

Not everyone was happy to see them, of course not. Trust took time, and time to heal the rift had only just begun. Colette slotted a plank into place and pulled one of several nails that she kept between her lips before she hammered said nail into place with a content smile. This fence was coming along nicely. Would do jack to keep rodents and small animals out, but larger ones would at least be a little deterred. It was as good of a start as any to something better. Just like this whole relationship between the Core and the Jedi.

Or so one could hope at least. Colette was really just happy to be able to be on her feet and actually do something again.

 

[Reina Daival]

Location: Tython
Objective: Survive
Tags: Everest Vale Corazona von Ascania Connel Vanagor Caelan Valoren Jaidan Shatani
Lightsaber - Pequod​

For once, Reina was nervous that this wasn't the right choice. Was she ready to head back into the field after what happened on Onderon? The forests weren't her element, whatsoever. Too many roots, too many trees. She had already lost count of how many times she had stumbled from not lifting her leg high enough. She'd need to find one she felt comfortable with at a later date but for today, she was going to have to make do and trudge on.

It didn't help that Reina didn't have any skillsets that were particularly effective against the Drengir. She was decent with a lightsaber, and had pretty effective control over water and the wind...but Force Light? Plant Surge? Neither of those were skills she had stored away for use. It was going to be time for her to do a lot of chopping. Her fingers curling around the handle of Pequod as she prepared herself. Every fibre of her being was itching for her to jump straight into the fray to help, but her act first, think later mindset is what ruined her last time...

She just had to wait for them to get closer. Wait...Wait...Now! With the Force rushing through her to enhance her attacks, Reina rushed forward throwing herself up into the air with a flip! Form IV was the one she had been working on the most, so it was her fallback point as she went for a Hawk-Bat Swoop before flipping herself back and away. Her lightsaber wouldn't be enough to defeat them by itself probably, but that didn't mean she couldn't be an annoyance and keep them at bay with it! The silver light illuminated her face as Reina landed on her good foot, balancing for a moment before she brought her other leg down. This was going to be exhausting...

 

[Vera Noble]

​

Tag: Jackson Lesan

​

Vera stood amidst the ruins of Empress Teta, dust clinging to her boots, the weight of the destruction pressing down on her shoulders like an unseen force. The air smelled of scorched stone and ash, a scent that had long since embedded itself into the bones of this city. It was overwhelming—too much devastation, too many broken homes, too many lives shattered by war after war.

Her hands flexed at her sides before she reached out, the Force swirling around her fingertips as she grasped onto a massive, crumbling durasteel beam. With a slow, steady breath, she lifted it, muscles tensed, mind focused. The metal groaned in protest before finally shifting aside, revealing more of the wreckage beneath.

But she wasn't really here.

Not entirely.

The moment her feet touched the ground of this city, her mind had been tugged in a different direction — backward, deep into the past. She didn't remember Empress Teta. Not really. She had been a baby when the Maw invaded, when her parents had been forced to make an impossible choice. But she had seen it. In glimpses, in memories that weren't her own, in visions painted by the Force.

The desperation in her mother's eyes as she placed Vera on a shuttle, whispering soft reassurances she wouldn't remember.
The quiet pain in her father's face as he stood beside her, as they made the choice to stay and fight while their daughter was sent away. The screams. The explosions. The city burning behind them.

She could almost hear them now.

A small, sharp breath pulled her back. She blinked rapidly, shaking off the lingering echoes as she turned to look at Jackson. He was already moving, already thinking about what came next, while she was still caught between then and now.

"Yeah," she said, voice quieter than usual. "Let's go."

She glanced around at the city once more before following him. Back then, she was too small to understand what was happening. Too small to fight, too small to help.

But now?

Now, she was here to rebuild it.

​

 

[Shan]

Tags: Zaiya Ceti Iris Arani
Objective: Time to do Heelys
"You've got this Zai. We're going to help as many as we can. If you need any help, remember to ask."

Shan scrubbed his hands swiftly, making sure to get every little nook and cranny under his nails. Hygiene was something vital in life, especially in the medical field. He wasn't going to helicopter Master over Zaiya. Shan fully trusted Iris' skills and was sure that she had taught Zaiya everything that was of importance. There had been a small moment of doubt when he reached into his robes to give Zaiya his healing crystal of fire...but he had faith in her. She didn't need the extra help.

It was time to get to work. No more distractions for Shan. He was ready to get to healing as he decided to work on more of the extreme cases. The red tags were what were going to be his target. This was what he did best. Shan was a healer. He saved lives. That was his purpose. With that, he cracked down and was ready to call upon the Force to aid him in his goals.