Populate [GA] Picking Up the Pieces | GA Populate of Onderon

[Valery Noble]

It has been a tumultuous time for the Galactic Alliance. Between the Hapan Crisis, the situation on Ord Providence, and now the disastrous invasion of Woostri, the wounds — both political and physical — are still raw. The war effort presses on, however, but the sting of defeat lingers, leaving the Alliance to regroup, recover, and prepare for what comes next.

The battle may be over, but its aftermath is far from settled. Millions of refugees from Woostri and surrounding planets are now displaced, scattered across the border systems, seeking sanctuary wherever they can find it. War-weary soldiers return to fleet command stations, their spirits heavy, while Alliance intelligence moves to counter the Sith Order's next steps.

But the enemy does not rest. The Sith presence remains entrenched along the border, their forces emboldened by their victory. If the Alliance is to regain momentum, it must do more than lick its wounds — it must push forward. The work begins here.

Objective I — Licking Wounds​

The fleets return from Woostri battered and beaten. Ships in need of repairs dock in nearby systems, while field medics and Jedi healers work tirelessly to tend to the wounded. For some, the pain is physical. For others, the scars run deeper. Soldiers, commanders, and Jedi alike struggle with the weight of their losses — how they process it may define the battles ahead.

Objective II — Displaced & Desperate​

The battle of Woostri has forced countless civilians to flee their homes. Thousands of refugees flood into border worlds, overwhelming planetary governments that lack the infrastructure to support them. The Alliance scrambles to organize relief efforts — but not everyone is willing to wait.

• Relief workers and Jedi diplomats coordinate with local authorities to ensure food, medical aid, and temporary housing are provided.
• Smugglers and black market traders exploit the crisis, charging outrageous prices to move people to safer systems — or worse, taking advantage of the vulnerable. Jedi and military personnel have been tasked to address this issue.
• Sith infiltrators may already be among the refugees, spreading fear and propaganda, making the situation even more volatile. Find them and take care of them.

Objective III — From the Shadows​

Even in defeat, the Alliance cannot afford to be blind. The SIA and Jedi Shadows have deployed covert teams along the Sith border, working to establish hidden listening posts and relay stations to track enemy fleet movements. But the Sith are not complacent, and the deeper agents go, the more dangerous the mission becomes.

• Spies and special forces operatives move along the border but also infiltrate hostile space, setting up covert surveillance stations in abandoned outposts, asteroids, or less hospitable planets that provide cover. But be careful — Sith patrols prowl the border, hunting for intruders. Any misstep could lead to capture… or worse.
• The Sith are monitoring the Alliance's retreat — find their scouts and neutralize them.

Objective IV — Survivors​

Encoded messages have reached Alliance space from within the Woostri system — distress calls from damaged and derelict ships. Survivors within are trapped, unable to escape with shuttles or escape pods. In an attempt to rescue them, the Alliance sends infiltration parties to quickly reach these people and get them out before the enemy finds them.

They don't have much time.

BYOO
Got a different story to tell? Bring your own objective!

​

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This thread is open to Galactic Alliance Members. Otherwise, please request permission to participate.​

Threads referenced:

• [GA] The Hapan Crisis | Rise or Ruin
• Spit Out the Rinds | Ord Providence (GA and Allies)

 

[Wedge Draav]

Objective One
​

Wedge grit his teeth, unable to contain his anger- kicking over a spare crate. The hangar bay was awash and vibrant with moving parts and personnel. The battle was disastrous, costly, and ultimately, fruitless.

It was as Wedge expressed fear of in the senate, military campaigns and ever expanding territory gains. The Sith were once again on the move, and thousands of Alliance troops, hundreds of pilots, and a great number of naval assets were lost.

Lost, dead.

And now the Sith was at the border of them and the Naboo Republic. It was one of his greater fears actualized. He had warned against expanding the Alliance so close to the enemy, and here they were, but now, instead of chastising Senators and Generals, he was looking over a viewscreen of casualties.

Wedge pivoted away from the screen, screaming in rage, tossing his helmet across the hangar and letting out a frustrated scream. The battle didn’t feel like a war. It felt like a slaughter. And there was more to come, more to deal with.

He felt so weak- so pathetic, unlike himself. He was the Commander of Revenant Squadron, one of the deadliest and best pilots in the galaxy- so why did he feel so helpless? So out of control, out of options and most importantly- out of hope?

 

[Dean Walker]

The stars stretched beyond the viewport, fractured only by the asteroid field ahead — large rocks drifting lazily, silent barriers on the edge of Sith space. It was the perfect place for a listening post — hard to detect, even harder to reach. Which, unfortunately, also meant tricky as hell to navigate.

Dean's hands were steady on the controls, eyes flicking between the shifting terrain and the ship's instruments. The shuttle vibrated under his touch as they neared the first cluster of asteroids, the gravity wells tugging them in unpredictable ways. This was the kind of flying he lived for — precise, instinctive, dancing between danger and disaster.

He smirked slightly, throwing a sideways glance at the two seated beside him. "So," he mused, voice calm but edged with amusement. "I was not expecting having two Jedi join me for this. Expecting trouble?"

The shuttle's sensors flickered with minor pings — background radiation, metallic debris, nothing dangerous yet. But he knew better than to trust quiet out here. "We're almost there," he said, shifting his focus back to the controls. "We'll set down on the largest rock in that cluster, get the relay set up, and then—"

A soft alarm chirped from the console.

Dean's demeanor didn't break, but his hands moved just a little quicker over the controls. "Huh. Looks like we might have company sooner than expected," he murmured, eyes narrowing at a faint, moving blip on the scanner.

Sith patrol? A wandering ship?

They'd find out soon enough.

Lily Decoria Katarine Ryiah
​

 

[Vera Noble]

​

Tag: Diogo Talon

​

The hum of the shuttle was steady beneath her hands, thrumming in time with her pulse. Stars streaked past the viewport, fading into the stillness of realspace as they neared the Woostri system — a graveyard of ships, wreckage floating like frozen corpses in the void. Somewhere out there, people were trapped, hoping to be rescued.

Vera exhaled slowly and let herself slip deeper into the Force.

She wasn't just flying — she was feeling. Letting the threads of the Force guide her through the wreckage ahead. She saw flashes — not clear, not whole, but glimpses. A shattered hull, drifting bodies, flickering lights. But then, something else. A tug, pulling her focus toward a cluster of derelicts, their presence ghostly in the scanner's display.

"Got something," she murmured, adjusting the shuttle's course with a small flick of her wrist. Vera smirked as they moved in, the flicker of a grin cutting through the weight in her chest, "It's faint but I think I can pinpoint it." She briefly looked at him, knowing that it was a lot to ask of him to trust her senses.

But she hoped that he'd be willing to rely on her visions.

"This is going to be a dangerous mission. You ready for it?" Her fingers tightened around the controls, eyes scanning the silent wrecks ahead again. Somewhere in all that darkness, survivors were waiting. And they didn't have much time.

​

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tags: Ares Dargir , OPEN)

Jedi rescue operations, was more practical than helping set up refugees... Which to be honest, while a natural running theme for their professions, Jack was started to get a little daunted from the repetition.

Plus, he was always more practical. In one Jedi shuttle, he and his peer performed their own task at hand, keeping an ear out with the stars as their view, just along Alliance borders around the Woostri system, passing the time himself with feet up above the controls, tapping away at a datapad, reading the reports so far.

So much death and destruction, another victimized world... It never ends.

DWEEP, DWEEP, DWEEP

Kicking his feet off, Jack lowered the 'pad and reached out, responding to the alarm before and frowned, eyes reading the sensors in care.

Clicking his tongue, the Knight started inputting the coordinates, hazel narrowing in thought. A distress call, right up our alley. There're multiple refugees out there, amidst the stars, now they just had to find them.

 

[Drystan Creed]

Objective I: Licking Wounds

"Out of my way!"

Drystan barked as he forced his way through the group of medical staff trying to keep him in his room.

His eyes, though heavy with exhaustion, flickered with unmistakable determination.

His breathing grew ragged—not just from his injuries, but from the emotions roiling beneath the surface.

They had found him on Woostri.

After his final, desperate strike against Zachariah Conway , the one that had split the very clouds above, Drystan had succumbed—his body giving out from exhaustion and wounds.

Yet when they recovered him, he had still been standing. He was still in his combat stance when they found him, his saber ignited, gripped tightly in his last remaining arm—the other, lost out of necessity.

But he had been unconscious, unaware as they had hauled him away from the planet in their escape.

Even before his treatment could properly begin, he had woken. And immediately scrambled out of his bed.

His armor was shattered, dirt and grime caked into the exposed slivers of flesh where the plates had broken away. His face was raw, his skin marked with the signs of battle.

His helmet was gone—obliterated beyond replacement.

A fresh scar ran down his left eye, a vertical reminder of the fight he had barely survived.

And where his left arm once was, only a cauterized end remained.

He paced through the medical facility, ignoring the looks of shock from patients and staff alike.

A half-dead man storming through the halls—his destination clear.

He was heading for the exit. For the hangar.

He needed a ship. Now.

His wounds be damned.

OPEN

 

[Colette]

OPEN - Obj. 1

The crackle of the bonfire was something else. Usually it was a source of immense safety and yet as she looked at it now all she could feel was so incredibly tired and the gentle bob and sway of her floating chair hardly made things easier. What the Echani woman on Woostri had done to her had left a lasting effect. Never before in her life had Colette felt this spent even right after waking up, it was just about the worst feeling she could think of.

She caught herself dozing off again and twitched awake. There was no body on this pyre but rather an effigy for those who couldn't be recovered. The ones that Colette herself would have happily joined if the medics hadn't managed to get her back amongst the living during the retreat from the field.

In the end they were with the force now. She could find solace in that as she let out another sigh and stared at the fire once more.

 

[Ventra Flavius]

Location: Vondarc
Objective: 2
Tag: Caelan Valoren
Disguise​

Ventra knows the mission. Find those who are threatening the Alliance and...report them. Ventra thinks it would be easier to just dispose of them. But orders and orders. Anything will be done to protect the Alliance...

Ventra's thoughts were relatively simple. They always were most of the time. That was the simple matter of things for her. She didn't see herself as a person, she was a tool for the Alliance. That meant following their orders. Of course if there was some form of wiggle room, she'd perhaps try to find it. For now, she checked over her disguise. Adjusting the fake eye patch for a moment, trying to make herself look quite rugged and ragged. If she wanted to fight in with the refugees, she had to look like she had just came from kind of battlegrounds, or at least a scuffle. The clothes seemed somewhat good enough in her eyes. Not perfect, but perfection was something she could never achieve, as much as she had strived for it. It was time to try and get into character at least, as the Cyborg cleared her throat for a few moments...before a few fake tears started to stream down her face.

"Please Mister! Ya gotta help me! It's been an age since I've gotten some warm grub! I'm starvin'! Take pity on me."

A completely difference accent and tone of voice would escape her lips as she spoke in character. There was always that strange peculiarity with her however. Ventra only ever used the term "I" whenever she was playing a role. Never for herself. Yet as quickly as the mask had been put on, it fell alongside any expression on her face as it went back to neutral. Her one visible blue eye focusing on her...ally for this mission Caelan Valoren . This time when she spoke, it was back to her cold and precise tone.

"Was that adequate? Should Ventra play up on the tears more?"

As she waited for her answer, Ventra then tapped her ear for a moment. She had to make sure she'd be able to both hear and talk back to Caelan once she was out amongst the crowds. It was times like this that she realised how useful her cybernetics could be. Ventra didn't exactly look forward to going into a mission, those were feelings she never really had but...she had a feeling that this mission was going to be potentially enjoyable.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Shan

Exhausted.

That was all Jonyna felt after it was over. The jovial, confident strut she normally had was gone. Replaced by a look of melancholy unlike the Cathar.

The Dawn of Hope had once more sent of contingent, three Bacta Class frigates, two of it's Escort Frigates, and the Shining Dawn, to help with the refugee crisis.

It had happened again.

Jonyna sat in the medical wing of the Shining Dawn, the Venator class Star Destroyer's medical wing alight with activity, while the Jedi Master would normally be coordinating, she was busy getting checked out herself.

She had thrown everything into taking out that storm generator.

She knew it would be back. She knew it would be another planet left to the whim of that bastard.

She was going to kill him one day. That was her vow. Him, and the Monster.

She couldn't hate the sith. She struggled to hate anyone.

Hate wasn't the word for this.

It was resolve.

 

[Gress D'ran]

Tag: Ysennia Lee​

Another battle won. Another war lost.

It had become a habit of Gress. Another bad habit on a long list.

To the rest of the GADF, the sight of Gress D'ran outside of his walker was a seldom one. The joke had been passed around Fort Bastion that the Hellstompers lived in their walkers, and it wasn't entirely inaccurate. Gress had drilled his men to do exactly that, partly as a way to familiarize them with the vehicles early on. New Equipment needed that level of familiarization.

But today...

This one stung enough to lure him out.

Just outside of the medical camp that had been set up, a frieghter from the NJO's new fleet had been set up. A restaurant, of all things. Gress sat in the back, his men piling in behind him. Across from him, Phones, the Dug who normally would be sitting at the Sphinx's radio chair, now sat low in the diner chair across from him.

"Ya think we'll win the war?"

It was a large question, but one Gress wasn't quick the answer.

"...course." He said lightly. "The war is only over if we give up. The alliance could fall, but we'll keep fighting."

That was how Gress saw it, at least.

A smoke, and a burger. That's all he needed right now.

 

[Shan]

He was bruised, battered and beaten, but Shan wasn't staying down. Not yet at least. He had rested where he could, but people needed him right now as he trudged the medical wing, with a crutch under his arm. Normally he'd just use the Force to heal himself but...it just wouldn't come to him. Perhaps it was because he didn't believe he deserved the healing. He had failed in his mission on Woostri, the people he had meant to protect had died, and he had even killed for the first time. So perhaps it was some kind of karmic retribution that he couldn't spur the Force to heal. Though knowing him...he probably wouldn't have healed himself fully.

"Sorry for being late Master Si. I had to take a bit of a rest. Taking a concussion rocket will do that to a guy."

A small pained chuckle came out. It was clear that he was trying to cheer up the Cathar somewhat...but it was a struggle even for him to smile. The one he had plastered on his face didn't quite reach his eyes. Nor was the usual spark of hope in his eyes. How could he smile when he considered what he had done. When he considered himself a failure in both his morals and his mission.

"I can give you a check over. Might not be able to use the Force to heal you as well as I normally could...but anything urgent, I should be able to treat."

Jonyna Si

 

[Caelan Valoren]

The Lazerian-class Heavy Cruiser Shield of Lazerian had arrived over Vondarc under the orders of King Valoren with the assignment of deploying craft to the planet loaded with supplies for the refugees, as well as to take on refugees from Woostri. The intent was for them to be relocated to Lazerian IV where they could easily find work and a home, and would have little trouble integrating into the worlds socio-political structure. These other worlds surrounding Woostri were not equipped for the grand influx of refugees, but Lazerian was capable of handling many of them.

Caelan himself was on one of the transports that arrived. He'd received a treatment of Lazerenzyme, which had finished healing his wounds, but he was still missing his left arm in its entirety. A product of battle with a Force enhanced creature. The dark side could do many things, but that power hadn't come from the creature itself. It had come from someone else. Someone she had called Kaine.

After landing and disembarking, he met up with some of the other alliance personnel, which is how he ended up in contact with Ventra. Strange, that one was. Clearly cybernetically enhanced but she had all the appearance of an Echani. He'd known a few of them. Nice people. VERY good at combat, especially bladed combat. He used some of their special gloves as part of his own equipment. It was immeasurably beneficial how much they seemed to help improve his accuracy.

Regardless, she did her little dog and pony show and then asked him what he thought. The way she referred to herself was peculiar to him, but different people had different customs and he wasn't going to judge.

"It seems a bit over the top, at least to me," Caelan said, reaching his one hand up to adjust guard on his left shoulder, which kept it protected until he could get a prosthetic. "What do you think, Fate?"

The droid was standing beside him and watching. "Bwoo-dweep bwee-dwoop dwoo-beep bwoo-dweet beep-dwoop. Bwee-dweet beep-bwoo!"

Caelan blinked. "You watch daytime soaps? You know what, forget I asked." He turned back to Ventra. "Maybe try sounding a little weaker or more meek. Like you really are starving and have little energy."

---

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

TAGS: Ventra Flavius ​

 

[Ashley Nevermore]

Tag: OPEN
Mentions: Azurine Varek​

The men of Phoenix stood in front of the funeral pyre.

It was a false ceremony. There was nothing left of Jaloxa to burn, but...

It's what she would have wanted. Cathar had some peculiar ceremonies, but Ashley had always been one to honor the cultures of whomever was under her. Her own culture was in crisis at the moment, and yet Ashley was busy honoring this one.

"It's funny..."

Ashley paused, looking over to Specialist Bisto, also known as Joker. The man who Giggles had wanted to date.

"What's funny?"

"I wouldn't have told her no. She was cute."

Ashley rolled her eyes. Ever the optimist.

 

[Ko Vuto]

Ko felt weightless, and he basically was. His torso sustained a grievous injury during the battle of Woostri. He didn’t know exactly what it was that harmed him. Only that it seemed to him like a distilled manifestation of the Dark Side. It pierced through his chest, cutting through major arteries that proved life threatening.

Right now the Kel Dor Jedi Knight floated in a bacta tank. A long breathing tube hooked onto his antiox mask as he remained submerged. The healing medicine surrounded every inch of his body, offering him a cool, soothing comfort. Memories of the fight ran on repeat in his mind. Remembering Colette 's own furocity during it. The obsessive energy of the Sith they fought. Lamenting how he hadn’t managed to cleanly dismember one of them in a moment of profound advantage.

To him now it all felt like another failure under his belt. Right now he hardly had the strength to even clench his fists in frustration. Ruminating and reliving the fight, letting himself process and understand his emotions regarding it now. Regretting any mistakes he made, and thinking of what could’ve, what he should’ve done instead. Ko allowed himself to metabolize the regret he felt now so he may free himself of the feeling later. He can’t change what happened, but he could learn from it. If there is a next time where he must stand against any of those three Sith he should be more prepared. But at the same time he understood that Quinn Varanin , Kaila Irons and Eira Dyn would be learn as well.​

 

[Ventra Flavius]

Location: Vondarc
Objective: 2
Tag: Caelan Valoren
Disguise​

"Weaker...and meek...Hm...That would make sense. Perhaps Ventra could incorporate part of how she plays her Coruscanti mask..."

Every role she had ever played was memorised in her head. The voice, the stance, the backstories she'd come up with. It was all stored in her head. That made it so much easier for Ventra to refer to them when she needed to adjust something like she needed to right now. It was simple enough to pick and choose what parts she needed. It was logical. She was a tool, a weapon. In her eyes, it was like adjusting the sights on your rifle, or work on making the stock more comfortable. She gave Caelan a short nod whilst she once again started to get into character, letting the tears flow down her face.

"Mister...Please. I need some kind of food. Scraps even...It's just me. I ain't got any family...Just a single mouth to feed...Hm. Good enough. Ventra will inform you if she finds anyone suspicious in the crowd. If she believes they are an immediate threat, she will deal with them herself. It will be a last resort. There is no need to cause more unrest amongst the refugees."

The role came easier to her, now that it wasn't purely just made up on the spot. With that, she started to make her way for the exit so that she could get into the crowd. Having changed her stance and posture as she shuffled slowly, almost dragging her leg behind her. There'd have been plenty of stampedes of refugees trying to get to safety, so if she played up having an injury from one of said stampedes, it'd only help to establish her role. She was not Ventra Flavius, SIA agent of the Alliance. No. She was Neela Heen. Woostri Refugee who had barely managed to escape. An entire life story was being made up in her head. She had memorised enough of Woostri's cities to come up with street names, schools to have went to, potentially job choices. It was unlikely those would be important for this mission...but you never know.

Heading out and going straight into the crowd was almost a sensory overload for her. Various different scents wafted through the air alongside a cacophony of noises echoing through the air from shouts, to shoving and tears. More tears. Neela was careful not to overdo the waterworks. If she was as hungry and as exhausted as she was meant to be acting, she wouldn't have the energy to be pouring out tears. It all had to be natural. She had to act as if she was truly Neela. And so for now, that was who she was.

 

[Katarine Ryiah]

Hey, hey, you, you, I don't like your girlfriend​

Location: Asteroid Field
Objective: 3
Tags: Dean Walker Lily Decoria


Katarine was physically sitting aboard the small vessel but her mind was a million systems away. The situation was serious as the Alliance's defeat at Woostri set in motion a chain of drastic events that all needed attending to. The Council had given her the option to aid in relief efforts but instead she had chosen this assignment for personal reasons, the main of whom was sitting at the controls. Dean Walker sat just few feet away from her, his eyes focused on the console in front of him, but Katarine couldn't shake the feeling that he was more than just a partner on this mission. They were both part of a top-secret operation investigating a series of gruesome murders—a case that seemed to stretch across the galaxy with increasingly disturbing patterns. Dean's calm demeanor often masked a sharp, calculating mind, and there was something undeniably magnetic about him. She had been working alongside him for months now, and it hadn't taken long for her to notice how easily their partnership clicked.

But it wasn't just the cases that kept her thoughts entangled. Katarine found herself increasingly aware of how she felt around him, a subtle attraction that stirred in her chest whenever their eyes met. It was a dangerous distraction, especially when she had vowed never to let her emotions cloud her judgment again. But every time Dean's gaze lingered on her just a moment too long, it sent a ripple of warmth through her, something she had to force herself to ignore.

There is no emotion, there is peace​

It was no secret that her undercover partner had once dated the Grandmaster Valery Noble, a fact that Valery had joked with Katarine about before introducing the pair for the Black Marsh investigation. Valery was the type of woman who made every other girl in the room feel inadequate by comparison and Kat had felt that inadequacy everytime she imagined the pairs past relationship. Now however a new cause for jealousy was sitting in the ship. A young padawan that Kat had never met named Lily Decoria. Lily was built along the same lines as Valery and Kat was surprised at how easily jealous was creeping into her own emotions. Katarine herself was nothing like these two women. She was tiny at only five foot two inches, and weighed barely over a hundred pounds. Centuries ago she'd battled with an eating disorder after Order 66 and though she had gaine da little weight she certainly had developed the hour glass figure of the padawan sitting in the vessel. Years of carbonation freezing had turned some of her hair white as well so now her brown locks had a two toned quality that she always worried aged her face. Unlike Lily whose own perfect blond hair was stunning, complimenting a figure that could blow anybody away.

There is no emotion, there is peace​

As she sat in the ship her mind should have been on the mission before them but instead it was spiraling into thoughts of envied inadequacy. After the disaster of her past she had promised herself her emotions would never get out of control again, but now the Jedi Master was drowing in some very dangerous emotional waters. Kat was from an old time when Jedi weren't allowed to have the attachments they had these days. The one time she had allowed herself an attachment.... she didn't like to think about the consequences. She had thrown her heart into a box and hid the key but Dean's presence acted like a lock pick. It was intoxicating and the thought that he might prefer the padawan sitting beside them was driving Katarine to brink.

There is no emotion, there is peace
​

"I was not expecting having two Jedi join me for this. Expecting trouble?"

"Trouble tends to find you Hotshot." She glanced sideways at him, her deep green eyes holding a glimmer of humor at the quip.

There is no emotion, there is peace
​

She felt her stomach flip and forced her deep green eyes back to the viewport, trying not to notice how perfectly placed Lily's hair looked compared to Kat's own two toned mess. Where did the Jedi even find these type of women? 1-800 BABE?

There is no emotion, there is peace
​

"Huh. Looks like we might have company sooner than expected,"​

Concentrate! There might be enemies approaching. She mentally slapped herself and glanced down at the data displays.

"Should we try communicating? See if they identify themselves?"

Oh bright idea Katarine, now you not only look ridiculous you sound ridiculous....

There is no emotion, there is peace​

 

[Gym Halpern]

LOCATION: Vondarc
TAG: WIDE Open

Objective II — Displaced & Desperate​

.


“Conn-Telemetry approaching Vondarc system” The systems department head yelled out.

Relax “Jonesy”, you’re not being tested. Captain Gym Halpern, former Executive Officer of the 3rd Reactionary Fleet to the late Admiral Liram Angellus was sitting in the command chair looking over his panel. He took a hiatus, fully planning on retirement after his mentor was killed in the fiasco that was posing as a “wedding” on the planet Hapes. Since then, his wife Alyks up and left, took Michael, and the entire fleet was basically disbanded. What bothers him the most is that many of his “brothers” and “sisters” took it oddly that he decided to return to duty. He was a sailor, it was his duty, and he felt it was theirs, but they didn’t feel the same way. It was an unfair feeling to be sure, but he felt like they (especially Pouihl and Tantor) turned their backs on him. He couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal. The once-unified fleet now scattered, each member dealing with the aftermath in their own way. Halpern, however, remained determined to restore order and honor to their ranks..

That was a conversation for another time though.

Helm-Conn… take us into standard orbit. Flight Control-Conn, launch all fighters.

“Sir?” Lieutenant Commander Toraq, a Bothan Ace Pilot and C.A.G. of the fighters aboard the “ANS Indomitable” was curious about the order. “Are we not on a mission of mercy?”

Are you questioning my orders, Commander? He wasn’t mad, he in fact expected, and to some extent, wanted this response. It was good to see an officer willing to stand up for the right thing.

“Respectfully, yes.”

I want everyone “in the air” and ready to go into a “cover” holding pattern when we land. The look on the pilot’s face was a mixture of shock and realization. The orders now made sense and he knew it as he nodded.

“Sorry, sir.”

Don’t be. I would have questioned the orders too.

“Conn-Helm! We are in a standard orbit.” The Chief Helm officer yelled out as the horizon was a beautiful mixture of open space and the planetary topography.

Good. Commander Billit… Have the planetary and Marine forces ready to deploy the moment we land. We’re not there to scare or control them, but if the rumors about this situation are true, these refugees are going to need a safe place.

Commander Billit, a Morellian woman, was more than happy to follow his orders; she had been a part of his staff of the Celestial City and knew exactly what he was doing and was willing to do. “Aye.”

It took about ten minutes before the fighters were all launched, that was one of the cool aspects about a “Courageous” Class Star Destroyer. Much like the old “Venator” Class, there were launch doors on the dorsal bow and the bridge could watch the fighters launch. “Conn-Flight, fighters launched, and bay doors closing. We’re ready when you are.”

Good, Helm. Take us in. Find a safe place to land. Tactical-Conn, set our defensive systems. Comms-Conn… be sure to send out a blanket message on all planetary channels that we are here with supplies and to meet the needs of the people.

For the next hour, the view was… interesting. The Star Destroyer came down into the atmosphere, a no doubt frightening site to many, but with the communications being handled, it was clearly something to watch. An enormous field proved to be the place for the enormous vessel to set down. Repulsor lift engines sending wind and grass flying until gently settling down.

Several minutes went by before labor droids, and crew were busy not only setting up, but bringing out meals, goods and supplies. Marines, and Planetary assault force troopers were out as well providing security from a distance.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Shan

"I'd appreciate it, Shan." Jonyna looked up to the Mirialian. "I'd love a look over. I'm...lucky, all things considered. Didn't have to be on the front lines this time."

Instead, she had held back a hurricane. Crazy bisnach.

 

[Diogo Talon]

Vera Noble​

"Shit," Diogo said, little more than a whisper. A graveyard of ships stretched endlessly in all directions. Though the battle had come and gone, the grief was still suffocatingly thick in the maw of darkness and broken things that surrounded them. "I got injured on Hapes. Wasn't here for the battle. I didn't realize how bad it was."

Vera indicated she got something. Signs of life in all this death. Dio tried to pick up what she was sensing, but couldn't. He'd just have to trust her. What choice did he have, anyway? But it was hard to know with her, the little Noble's confidence was hardly reassuring. She always seemed that way. No matter what.

"This is going to be a dangerous mission. You ready for it?"

"You worried 'bout me?" he asked, smirking just a tad. Playfulness was the only tool in his coping cupboard. "Readier than you, pipsqueak."

 

[Shan]

Come on Force...Don't fail me now...

Shan sighed to himself, as he rubbed his hands together. He wasn't healing himself. This wasn't a selfish desire he had. So the Mirialan hoped that he'd be able to use the Force. It responded to his will and wishes. Closing his eyes to make it easier for him to treat Jonyna, or at least sense where her injuries were.

"Yeah. Can we swap places next time? I was on the frontlines. Wasn't fun."

Honestly, the Mirialan would have preferred to hold back a hurricane than do what he had to do on the frontlines. He was not built for it. He was not some kind of valiant warrior that to be on the frontlines. He could be a wall for things to hit against, but fighting at the front was not what he was best suited for. His entire thing was defense. That wasn't important for now. Instead he focused on the Force, letting the waves of the Force flow so that he can get to work treating Jonyna Si