Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction [GA] The Hapan Crisis



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The flames of vengeance burn bright across the Hapes Consortium. Following the brutal assassination of Prince Astor Daaray Astor Daaray and Lady Shaya Khal Shaya Khal at their wedding, Queen Mother Kha'la Daaray Kha'la Daaray has unleashed the full might of her military and royal guards in a relentless campaign against the Crimson Veil. Her orders are clear: no captives, no trials, no mercy. The Consortium's soldiers fan out across the cluster's many worlds, eliminating every last trace of the group and its associates.

Kalen Kalen himself her greatest target.

But as the Crimson Veil fights back, their claims of tyranny and despotism take on a sharper edge. The Consortium's scorched-earth response has drawn the wary eyes of its allies in the Galactic Alliance, where tensions now run high. Hapes is bound to the Alliance by treaty, but its current actions are seen by many as a breach of the democratic values the Alliance stands for.

As the Queen Mother pursues her vision of justice, Hapan ships are blockading planets, soldiers are storming cities, and the fight has spilled into the stars. Diplomats, Jedi, and Alliance soldiers are deployed, trying to walk the delicate line between respecting Hapan sovereignty and preventing an all-out war. But Kha'la is not backing down, and the Consortium remains firmly under her control.

The galaxy watches with bated breath as diplomacy and conflict collide. Can the Alliance rein in its proud and independent member before the Consortium's hunt ignites something far worse?



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Objective I: Diplomatic Plea
For Senators, Diplomats, and Political Figures

The Queen Mother's warpath has alarmed both the Galactic Alliance Senate and its High Command. While her grief and rage are understandable, the lack of due process and the indiscriminate nature of the purge threatens the Alliance's standing as a force for democracy and justice. Several senators have taken it upon themselves to lead a delegation to Hapes, hoping to reason with the Queen Mother and convince her to halt the campaign before it spirals further out of control.

The task is far from simple. The Queen is guarded and unyielding, and her court is equally tense. Many of her advisors support the purge, seeing it as necessary to ensure Hapes' stability. Can cooler heads prevail? Will diplomacy find a way to temper vengeance with justice, or will the Queen's fury sweep away any attempt at negotiation?




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Objective II: The Hunt for the Veil
For Soldiers, Jedi, Crimson Veil

As the Hapan military scours the Consortium's worlds, members of the Crimson Veil have gone to ground, fighting back with desperation and ferocity. With both sides escalating, the Galactic Alliance High Command has deployed its military to intervene, assisted by Jedi of the New Jedi Order. Their mission: locate and disable both Crimson Veil operations and Hapan military forces to avoid more innocents from losing their lives.

But how much can they interfere without further escalation?

Tensions are high. The Hapans view the Alliance's presence as interference, and the Jedi find themselves torn between their commitment to the Alliance and the cruelty of the Crimson Veil that must also be addressed. Meanwhile, the Crimson Veil fights back with guerrilla tactics, sabotage, and bombings, determined to take down as much of the Monarchy as possible. Every battle is a flashpoint that could tip the Consortium — and perhaps the entire sector — into a wider conflict.





BYOO
Do you have a different story to tell? Bring your own objective!


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Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

The shimmering structures of Hapes gleamed under the light of its binary stars, their pristine surfaces betraying none of the chaos simmering beneath the planet's elegant exterior. The streets below were far less idyllic — the once-bustling marketplaces and grand boulevards were punctuated with tension, security checkpoints, and whispered fears. The Crimson Veil's violent assassination had struck at the heart of the Consortium, and the Hapan military's relentless crackdown was carving scars into a society already reeling from the recent assassination.

Valery stepped off the shuttle that had brought her and Zaiya to the planet's surface, her expression calm but her fiery gaze betraying the determination simmering within. The humid, perfumed air of Hapes washed over her as she adjusted her robes, the faint sound of blaster fire and distant sirens cutting through the elegance of the cityscape. The tension here wasn't just palpable; it was oppressive. It hung over the world like a storm cloud ready to burst.

"Zaiya," Valery said softly as she began to walk toward their destination, her tone warm but laced with a quiet gravity, "Stay close to me and keep your senses sharp. Hapes is battlefield right now. We'll need to tread carefully."

The Jedi Grandmaster's mind was already turning over what lay ahead. Their mission was clear but fraught with peril. She and Zaiya were here to de-escalate the growing violence between the Hapan military and the Crimson Veil. Diplomacy might be their only weapon, but even that blade was double-edged. The Hapans didn't take kindly to outsiders meddling in their affairs, and the Crimson Veil were fanatics willing to die for their cause.

Stopping the brutal cycle of violence would take more than words — it would take understanding. Valery just hoped that she and her Padawan could provide it before the flames consumed the Consortium entirely.







 

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Hapes
Tags: Kha'la Daaray Kha'la Daaray , Open
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Lightsaber
NPC: Valette Puritis Yumia Valette Puritis Yumia

Jasper wasn't a fan of politics. He maybe even hated it, given that time and time again it seemed to be fully ignorant of the people at the bottom of any society. Yet, even so, he saw the importance of seeing this delegation through. Terrorists needed to be dealt with, but in a just and appropriate way. They were driven by hundreds of years of inequality, pushed to the brink in to take an extreme action. Even after the passing of the Equal Right's bill, they were radicalized enough by history to act. This was going to be a dark time for the Alliance, one that required tactfulness to address. Jasper wasn't that man. He was just here to keep the senators from getting added to the Queen's kill count if she was in a particularly bad mood.

Not an unjustified mood. Jasper would probably feel like he'd tear a galaxy apart if he lost Jalen...

"Waging a war against your own people only entrenches them deeper," Yumia mused as she walked with the Jedi Master. "Terrorists will become regular people soon enough. Then what's the difference?"

"And if your people decided they were tired of their caste?" Jasper remarked rather harshly.

The veiled Godoan senator paused.

"I... assure you, Master Jedi, I am not content with the social order of my world," she muttered. "Do you think change is easy? Caste systems, matriarchies, slavery and oppression... These things sow themselves into the roots of a civilization's heart. Tear them out too hastily and you threaten to pull the rest out with it. I... have done what I could to push my people in the right direction."

"Don't justify yourself to me," the Jedi sighed. "I'm not here to be a gentle hand. That's long since passed. If you're to do right by your people, you have an obligation to pull the corruption from the core... consequences included."

"You haven't changed at all since we met," the senator noted. "What a fire you Jedi have..."

Jasper let out an exhale, holding his tongue. He couldn't wait to get this over with. All he really cared about was ensuring that nobody else died.

There had already been way too much of that.


 
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To Halt A Genocide
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Outfit: Royal Suit
Weapons: Minor self defense weapons

Sylvia Organa adjusted the folds of her regal white robes, a gift she'd received after her first debate, as she approached the grand chamber doors. Her long brown hair, half tied back in a simple yet elegant braid, while the rest was left down and cascaded down her back. She had barely rested in months, tirelessly dedicating herself to the liberation of Lazerian IV and the reconstruction of Iridonia and countless other war-torn planets. The weight of those efforts lingered in her ice-blue eyes, but she wore a warm smile as she approached the royal guards.

The halls of the Hapan palace exuded opulence, their crystalline walls reflecting shimmering light. Yet, the air was tense, heavy with grief and fury. The Queen Mother's orders had left a bloody trail across the Consortium, and the weight of her vengeance loomed like a storm cloud. Sylvia could feel it in every glance from the courtiers, in the sharp clicks of boots against the polished floor.

The guards, stoic and disciplined, studied her closely before stepping aside. One motioned for her to enter, the grand doors groaning open to reveal the Queen Mother’s audience chamber.

Sylvia stepped forward, her soft, deliberate footsteps the only sound echoing against the towering walls. The queen sat upon her throne, resplendent and unyielding. Her dark eyes burned with a mix of sorrow and rage. Around her, advisors murmured among themselves, their expressions ranging from wary to defiant. Her heart ached at the sight and feeling of Kha’la Daaray’s grief, though she kept her expression composed. This was a woman drowning in her own pain, lashing out with the full might of her power, and Sylvia knew that approaching her required care.

"Queen Mother," Sylvia began, her voice soft yet resonant, a tone that seemed to fill the room with a warmth without overpowering it. "It's an honor to be able to meet with you once again. Thank you so much for granting an audience with you today."

Internally, she wrestled with the enormity of her task. How could she present an alternative path when the flames of vengeance had already consumed so much? Yet at the same time, she understood what it was like to lose her family, a pain she now shared with the queen. Diplomacy was never easy, but she would not falter. The galaxy needed compassion now more than ever. "On behalf of the planet of Alderaan, I am so very sorry for your loss."




 
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Outfit: Senate Commando Armor
Full Kit Deployment:

Nos followed closely behind Lady Sylvia Organa Lady Sylvia Organa - his presence a compromise in and of itself. If he had his way, an entire fireteam would be accompanying the Senator. Sylvia insisted on attending in person, despite Nos's insistence that a Holoprojector presence could suffice.

No, the senator absolutely needed to be physically present to meet with a Queen on a rampage, a planet in turmoil just after an assassination. After a night of negotiation, Sylvia and Nos finally reached an agreement. Nos alone could accompany the Senator, unless the Queen notices and objects.

Sylvia said to wear something nice, so he did; a full set of the newly commissioned
Senate Commando Armor by Hekler'klok manufacturing. The unblemished blue carapace armor with the white sigil of the Galactic Senate shined brilliantly on the shoulder-shield, royal blue half shoulder-cape trailing behind, all armaments clearly visible and holstered.

The rest of Nos's squad remained outside the perimeter of the palace, observing from a distance, not technically intruding, but providing Nos with regular check-ins and the coming and going of personnel. Nos was taking no chances here.

A palace guard gave Nos a glare, returned only with the unchanging visage of the helm. Tensions were certainly high.

Regardless, Nos ignored any implied suggestions that he should leave the lady senator alone in the nest of vipers - he was always less than two paces away, silent, watching every angle, every entrance and exit. Even as the Lady Senator addressed the Queen, Nos was her armored, deadly shadow. Her shield.

He remained silent but ever present as the meeting took place.


 
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Objective 2
Tag:
Vera Noble Vera Noble

Standing on the roof of a warehouse inside the spaceport Gakot looked out to the rest of the city using holobinoculars. He grimace, thinking,

This is going to be rough and that's an understatement. Given our objectives.

Hunt down terrorists and keep their Hapan allies from going too far. He shook his helmet, thinking how his comrade and CO would react to this situation. She was ruthless to enemies but always emphasized to their company on not deliberately targeting innocent citizens. They will keep to the code. The former pirate narrowed his eyes in determination within the helm.

Turning around to the Talons he noted their body language, tense by what is to come. He addressed them.

"Not gonna lie boys and girls we are in a nest of Nexu but we have a job to do all the same. Regardless of how we feel about Hapan culture we need to remember this. Crimson Veil murdered not only the Constorum's Prince and his bribe, they also murdered Grand Admiral Liram Angellus and his security detail. In fact they beat him bloody till they did it. Let that sink in."

It gave the troops pause and some shared looks with each other and a few more gripped their weapons in reaction. They may not have known Admiral Angellus personally but he was a brother in arms as were his guards. So when the Hapan royalists try to claim that they're interfering in an internal affair, that won't hold water to them.

The special forces captain continued.

"Be fierce, be relentless. Let us show these fanatics how big of a mistake they made while at the same time we will not be Sith about it."

"Cap, what about the royals? They're not pulling any punches. How are we going to stop them from mass murder while at the same time fight the terrorists? The Veils certainly not going to hesitate, hiding among the citizens, likely to use them as shields."

A young commando in concern and Gakot nodded, understanding where it was coming from. He was quick to respond.

"We'll improvise and we got a Jedi here to help play referee."

He looked over to Vera Noble and nodded.
 
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.:Objective Two:.​

Corvin stood in silence, his gaze fixed on the shuttle’s doors as it completed its landing procedures. The rhythmic sounds of the landing sequence provided an odd sense of calm, steadying the faint trace of nerves hidden beneath the cold, stoic expression etched on his pale features.

As he waited, Corvin briefly checked his equipment. His half-plate combat armor, forged from resilient Phrik alloy, gleamed in a muted yellow hue. The sections not covered by armor were draped in a flowing, feather-adorned robe, providing a clash of ceremonial elegance alongside and practical design.

At his waist hung two distinct items: his lightsaber, the symbol of his rank and training as a Padawan, and a ceremonial vibrodagger, a reminder of his heritage and discipline. Once his final checks were complete and the shuttle’s doors hissed open, Corvin took a deep breath and stepped out, bracing himself for what he assumed would be a war zone.

If there was one lesson his parents had instilled in him, it was this: no matter how dire the conflict, you must always face it with your head held high.

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Tags | Open
 
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Damian du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta
Location:
Hapes
Outfit

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The young du Couteau heir always found a sense of reprieve during travel, the longer the hyper journey the better. Sleep had been a difficult commodity to acquire for Damian, the past few months in particular had been more so than usual. A knock roused the still half-awake Senator, a voice alerting Damian that they were about to make planet-fall and to be ready. He muttered an acknowledgement of sorts and began to prepare himself, his hands attempting to rub away his tiredness and fix his hair. With a quick pat down of his clothes, smoothing out wrinkles and creases as he stood up and began to make his way to the exit.

Damian kept his eyes focused on his data-slate, the briefing of the Hapan situation beggared disbelief. But reality is often stranger than fiction. He was hardly one to push forward morality, let alone enforce it upon others, but the situation here threatened to make unsettling waves in the market. The ship landed and Damian began to walk out and make his way to the meeting area, the Queen herself probably only planned on entertaining the Alliance delegate as a simple gesture.

He had not much dealings with said Hapan Queen Mother, but it was clear to him that compromise would be difficult to achieve. Not that I can’t understand Royalty, given enough power and nobility a certain mindset begins to take root. Damian scrolled his data-slate and mused on some possible ideas, along with avenues to enact possible plans. The Alliance would never condone such acts of perceived injustice, or brutality in this case, but much like the Byss situation; perceptions could always change.

With a raised eyebrow, Damian saw an interesting path ahead, the tricky part would be how everyone will react and to what degree in extremity. He continued his walk to reach where the meeting to be had, already other Senators and Delegates had begun their discourse. Though one in particular was a familiar face of a Jedi Master of the Order, quite the impact the Hapan situation had caused to see Jedi at the negotiation table. Damian’s musing ended as he listened to the Senator of Alderaan speak to the Queen Mother, Damian for his part bowed his head in silent reverence. He’d hear the Queen’s response and judge then.

 
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Objective II
Tyrus stepped off the shuttle, his boots hitting the surface of Hapes with a weight that felt heavier than usual. The air here was thick—not with humidity like Haruun Kal, nor the acrid tang of Coruscant's undercity, but with tension, unease and hatred. It clung to his skin, sharp and stifling. Threatening to push him to the edge just like everyone else. Every sound, from the distant murmurs of civilian protests to the occasional sharp crack of a weapon discharged in the distance, seemed to vibrate with the oppressive feeling of a world teetering on the collapse.

Tyrus closed his eyes for a moment and breathed it in. Not to be overwhelmed, but to embrace it. This kind of chaos was familiar. Comfortable, even. He exhaled slowly and muttered under his breath, " Yep. Feels exactly like home." Not exactly a good thing.

Through his glareshades, dark eyes scanned the surroundings, noting the uneasy glares from Hapan guards stationed nearby. Even in his immediate vicinity the conflict in every corner of this place was present, from the people's fear to the barely concealed rage emanating from the Crimson Veil's supporters no doubt lurking in the shadows. There was no peace here, only an unending cycle of mistrust, vengeance, and survival. It wasn't so different from the underworld of Coruscant or the brutal jungles of his youth.

But unlike the wilderness or the lawless streets, this conflict was entangled in something far worse: Politics.

Tyrus adjusted his cloak and began walking, his mind turning over the purpose of the New Jedi Order in this mess. What place do we really have here? The thought struck him like a familiar punch. The Jedi had been sent to Hapes not to bring true resolution but because the Galactic Alliance feared losing control of yet another region of the galaxy. This wasn't about helping the Hapan people. It wasn't about ending the bloodshed or even dismantling the Crimson Veil. It was about maintaining a fragile status quo that allowed the galaxy at be to stay comfortable. Being comfortable is not natural. His jaw clenched , his pace steady but his thoughts turbulent. This isn't a war the Jedi can win. It's a battle between those who already have power and those who are desperate enough to die for the chance to change it. What could we possibly do to help here, aside from make things worse?!

The question felt rhetorical, but it gnawed at him. He wasn't naive—he knew the official mission was to save lives and stabilize the region. To protect the bed rock of civilization and maintain order, For without civilization...the Jedi have nothing left but nature. A dark natural nature. But the Jedi's hands were tied, bound by Alliance orders and the expectations of the galaxy at large. In the Koruns eyes, they weren't here to make a difference. They were here to play mediator in a game that didn't want mediation.

He passed a group of civilians, their eyes wary, their postures defensive. A small child clung to their mother's leg, wide eyes watching him with a mix of curiosity and fear. Tyrus softened his gaze for a moment, nodding slightly as he walked by. That's who we should be helping. People like them, caught in the crossfire. He shook his head, the frustration simmering under his calm exterior. Politics wouldn't save that family. Mediation wouldn't protect them from a stray blaster bolt or a desperate act of rebellion.

No, if Tyrus was going to do any good here, it wouldn't be by playing diplomat or following orders to the letter. It would be by doing what he'd always done—walking the shadows, fighting for those who couldn't fight for themselves, and making sure the ones responsible for this chaos felt the weight of their actions. Who that was specifically at the moment, was exactly what he was going to find out. As he approached the edge of the landing area, Tyrus glanced back at the shuttle, then forward toward the heart of Hapes, where unrest brewed like a storm on the horizon. A grim smile tugged at his lips.

"Guess it's time to see just how much trouble I can cause."
 
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(Tags: Valery Noble Valery Noble , Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti )

Jack had no love for the Hapens.

He'll say it; any society, no matter its strength or tactical capabilities, it political prowess in the wide expanse of the Galaxy, that treats one gender like second-class citizens was a big no-no for him, to put it mildly. While the loss of life between its potential future Queen was a tragedy, the Knight wasn't personally going to lose sleep over it.

That said, he couldn't not sympathize with the Queen, hence he will fulfil his task here with a straight head and a heavy heart.

Stepping down from his shuttle, boots echoed from metal to dirt, the Knight took a swift look-around, locks swaying at the air of tension, threatening to burst. There's no easy way going about this; blood may have to be spilt, on both sides, the burden was on the Jedi and GA to minimalize the inevitable, as much as possible.

Spotting a certain ally not too far, Jack strode over, purpose filling his every being. Addressing out the superior Jedi with all-business respect, "Grandmaster." With a nod of inclination, came next a sported, weary grin. "For once we greet under streneous circumstances."
 


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Tag: Gakot Cal Gakot Cal
Vera stood near the edge of the rooftop, her multicolored eyes scanning the sprawling city below. The tension in the air was palpable, as thick and oppressive as the haze hanging over the spaceport. This wasn't a mission for jokes or playful banter — too much was at stake. The lives of innocents hung in the balance, and every decision they made here would ripple far beyond the city streets.

She turned slightly at the mention of her name, catching Gakot's nod. The fiery determination in her gaze was unmistakable as she addressed the Talons. "Captain Gakot's right," she said, her voice firm but steady. "We're walking a fine line here. The Crimson Veil is ruthless, and they'll use civilians as shields, as leverage. But we're Jedi, and we don't stoop to their level. Our job is to protect life, not to destroy it. That means being smart, precise, and controlled."

Vera stepped closer to the gathered soldiers, her expression serious but not unkind. "The Hapans are fighting with anger and grief, and I don't blame them for it. But if they go too far, they'll only fuel the Veil's cause. That's where we come in. We're not just here to fight — we're here to guide, to keep this from becoming a slaughter."

Her gaze swept over the group, locking eyes with a few of the commandos before she added, "If you have doubts, if things feel out of control, you come to me. We're not just soldiers or Jedi out here — we're a team. And we'll get through this together."

Vera took a deep breath and let it out slowly, her fingers brushing the hilt of her lightsaber. "Now, let's get to work. We've got people to protect and a galaxy to remind why we're better than those who choose fear and bloodshed."



 




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OBJECTIVE II
PLANET: KAVAN

Above the world of Reboam, a Galactic Alliance cruiser hung in orbit. It carried several squads of GADF members from the Marines and the Army. Rumor had it even Jedi were aboard, although Erran had not seen any. Members of the SIA were also on board, monitoring communications and last-minute details for the upcoming mission.

Erran stood in the briefing room around a holographic projector, which emitted a 3D image of the Planet Reboam. He, along with several other members of the GADF, were awaiting orders in the briefing room. Some individuals talked about the recent events against the Veil and their mission here today. The hubbub rolled around him as he glared at the image of Reboam.

As Erran scanned the image, several points of interest began to glow on the image, several of which were blinking a slow red.

With the recent Crimson Veil attack on the Consortium, things had more or less been turned upside down. With the Veil conducting terrorist attacks and murdering the Prince during his wedding, the Consortium had gone scorched earth. It was hard to blame them. Erran doubted the GA would have gotten involved if they had kept their attack target to the Veil and minimized civilian casualties.

Unfortunately, in their fervor, the Consortium had dealt such death to the innocents in their care that the GA had to do something. Letting a group, even as notable and strong as the Consortium, go unchecked would have caused even more strife within the GA and the Senate.

So, here Erran was, getting ready to be briefed and deployed on an allied world against a terrorist organization.

The door to the briefing room slid open, and a sharp "At ease" snapped through the clamor of the men and women talking.

Commander Tamil of the GADF entered the room and met the eyes of each individual around him.

"Let's get started," Tamil said as he pushed several keys on the holo-projector. "I'm sorry to make this briefing short, but we don't have much time." As Tamil pressed several more buttons, the image of Reboam rapidly diminished, zooming out until the system proper was hanging before them.

Another red ping materialized at the edge of the system. This one was far out from their location but closing fast. Tamil pressed another button, and a close-up image of a Hapes Consortium Nova Cruiser exploded outward from the red ping.

"The Consortium is en route to us with full speed. This wouldn't normally be a problem, but our mission here today demands we reach our target before the Consortium's soldiers do." Tamil flipped a switch, and the holo-projector image flickered back to the zoomed-in image of Reboam.

"This small cluster of villages in the northern hemisphere is our target. The Strategic Intelligence Agency intercepted communications from the Hapes Consortium, which leads them to believe several high-level Crimson Veil leaders are hiding deep in an underground mining complex somewhere in this vicinity."

Tamil flicked another switch, and the image zoomed in further, centering directly over several small villages.

"This northernmost village is the target," Tamil said, pointing. "The SIA has informed us that the entrance to this old mining facility is here." Tamil again pressed more buttons, and a further green ping lit up on the map. Their entry point was north of the village, next to large canyons that jutted up from the ground in terrific fashion.

"It appears, based on the intercepted communications, that the Veil has only recently set up operations here. This may work to our advantage if you can find a separate entrance when you're on the planet. They may not have every nook and cranny scouted and covered yet. Make no mistake, though, they'll be ready for a fight."

"We'll insert you here via shuttle, about 10 klicks outside the village; you'll ruck your way in from there under the cover of darkness. Once you've infiltrated the mine, locate the Crimson Veil leaders and bring them back
alive, understood? The goal of this operation is to use these Veil members as leverage for a potential cease-fire or negotiation between the Consortium."

Tamil looked around at them before the next part, "I know you have questions; I know this is rushed, so let's hear it."

Erran spoke the question on everyone's mind, "If the Consortium's soldiers meet us ground-side, they're not going to let us take these leaders. They'll want to bring them back or execute them on the spot. What's our force continuum if that happens? I'm assuming the GA doesn't want blood spilled between the Alliance and the Consortium."

Tamil nodded, "That is correct, which is why I'm deploying you immediately. The goal is to beat them there and negate the possibility of Consortium interference. That being said, do not under any circumstance engage the Consortium soldiers unless it is in defense of your life or the lives of those around you. Is that clear? If it comes down to you or those Veil leaders, let the Hapan's take them; it's not worth a wider conflict over some terrorists."

Erran waited for several others to ask questions and gain fine-tuned guidance from the commander. After the briefing, Erran gathered his squad and headed for the landing bay with the rest of the GADF.

The clock had started, and they did not have much time.

TAGS | Aiden Rennek Aiden Rennek | OPEN, JUST JUMP IN.


 

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Roman Vossari Roman Vossari Jenn Kryze Jenn Kryze Haliat Kryze Haliat Kryze Rayia Si Rayia Si

The dying words of Prince Astor Daaray Astor Daaray had not been for her, yet they played over and over in her mind all the same.

The syss-system, is…is not b-broken, Bri-Briana,” breathe, yes, breathe, “it f-functions eggs-exactly as i-it is men… meant to.

The Moonside Inn's electricity had been cut. Before all outgoing signals had been jammed, when they'd onnly just realized what was happening, she'd managed to send an SOS. Then, communications went dark. The doors broke down, and they were dragged away.

The Crimson Veil had taken the building.

Corazona and Roman had been herded into the hotel's basement along with many other guests. None of them had been bound, but men wielding blasters had been enough to keep the crowd frightened and docile.

"I think that many of these people were at the wedding," she murmured to Roman. They hadn't had the chance to grab their lightsabers before the terrorists had reached them. Identifying themselves as Jedi from the get-go might've been the wrong move, so they'd blended in well enough with the other hostages for now. "Quite a few from off world. I wonder how many are actually Hapan?"

Her gaze panned over the mixed group. Foreign dignitaries and wealthy families, friends of the crown, were among them. It made sense that they'd choose to target this particular hotel. It could put outside pressure on the Queen Mother to handle this with more of a delicate touch.

A Chagrian male, draped in stately robes, posed a question to one of the gun-wielding terrorists. "How long do you intend to keep us here?"

"Until our demands are met," he replied sternly. "Until the Queen Mother abdicates her throne – or is removed otherwise."

Cora glanced to Roman. Hostage crises could be tricky, but this one was rather calm...for now.
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"Queen Mother."

Amani Serys-Organa made her arrival known with a strained greeting. She held many titles in the Galactic Alliance, but the one she hoped would bridge the gap between herself and Kha'la Daaray today was Queen. She came adorned in Alderaani dress, a symbol of her ties to the sovereign planet, rather than the Alliance as a whole. Minutiae, perhaps, but if she could sway this woman, even in the most subtle and subconscious way, to heed her words, then it was worth the deliberateness.

What happened that day at the wedding now threatened to uproot Hapan civilization in its entirety. The Crimson Veil lit the match, but the Queen was throwing gas at the raging fire. And if they couldn't put it out in time, it could spell something worse for not only Hapes, but the Alliance-- and Jedi-- as well.
 

- H A P E S -
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"What have I sacrificed? Everything..."



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The torrential rain battered the scorched streets of Ta’a Chume’Dan, the once-glittering crown jewel of the Hapan Cluster. Now, it was a city consumed by despair. Streams of muddy water cascaded down shattered walkways, pooling around the lifeless bodies of those caught in the indiscriminate fury of Queen Mother Kha’la Daaray's vengeance. Lightning streaked across the darkened sky, momentarily illuminating the smoldering ruins of estates and crumbled infrastructure. The distant echoes of sporadic blaster fire punctuated the chaos, mingling with the anguished cries of civilians seeking refuge.

The entire sector was in a crisis, centuries of oppression, boiling over in a matter of months. And she knew the reasons...this was the Burning Truth.

The Foundation had entered the system two weeks earlier than today, its presence heralded by the arrival of a small fleet of escort frigates and transport cruisers. Painted in muted, unassuming tones, the ships bore the emblem of the Foundation. The transport cruisers now worked tirelessly, shuttling evacuees from the worst-hit areas to safer sectors on the outskirts of the cluster. Their frigates patrolled the skies above the encampment, a discreet yet unwavering shield against potential threats.

The main encampment itself was strategically placed at the edge of the city, where crumbling urban sprawl met untamed wilderness. Beyond its perimeter, the hulking forms of the Foundation's transports loomed, their floodlights casting long shadows through the rain. The ships not only ferried the wounded and displaced but also served as a vital hub for supplies—medicine, food, and fresh water were unloaded in an endless stream, feeding the lifeline that kept the encampment operational. Engineers worked with grim efficiency, erecting temporary barricades and stabilizing damaged infrastructure to ensure the far perimeter was secure.

Farther out, another smaller encampment had been established on the grounds of Duch'a Eline Djo Eline Djo 's estate, a once-grand sanctuary now repurposed into a safe haven for those fleeing the violence. The estate now housed makeshift medical wards and sleeping quarters. Its surrounding gardens, ravaged by time and conflict, served as landing zones for shuttles ferrying evacuees from nearby. The Duch'a herself opening her estate to the care of those who could turn its fading grandeur into a lifeline; honorable.

The smaller encampment played a critical role in the Foundation's efforts. Positioned closer to volatile regions, it served as a forward station for receiving the injured and routing them to the main camp for more intensive care. It was a perilous location, often exposed to skirmishes and the unpredictable movements of both the Queen's forces and insurgent factions. Yet, the volunteers stationed there worked with unwavering resolve, driven by the knowledge that every moment spent there could save lives; They passed out pamphlets commissioned by the Foundation, a handbook of sorts for resistance movements, one that could be distributed across the system. It had their values, and their purpose, among other things.

Even outside this makeshift encampment bustled with frantic activity. Volunteers in mismatched uniforms—engineers, medics, and relief workers—moved with determined urgency, their faces streaked with soot and exhaustion. At the center of it all stood Askani, draped in a hooded cloak that seemed to absorb the light around her. She seemed lost in thought, like she longed for something, her hand over her chest as it rose and fell, her mind went to places born of worry; something maternal. What stoked the flame was the well-being of one that was within reach, but one she couldn't touch...maybe never again.

What had she sacrificed?

Everything.


As the world around her bore a deafining white noise into her ears, she quickly found herself pulled from her trance, with the weight of the world round her becoming audible again, dropping its weight on her shoulders.

"Askani," called a young medic, her voice trembling. "We've just received word—one of the refugee caravans was ambushed on the northern route. Survivors are trickling in, but… the casualties are high."

Askani's gaze turned toward the rain-slicked horizon, her expression unreadable. "How many?" she asked, her voice steady but carrying an edge of urgency.

"Dozens," the medic whispered. "And more are missing."

Askani's lips tightened. The northern route was supposed to be a safe corridor, yet the Queen's forces or insurgents had turned it into a battleground. She exhaled slowly, steadying herself. "Ready the triage team," she ordered. "And double the sentries at the perimeter. We can't afford to lose this forward station."

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Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Valery Noble Valery Noble Jack Wright Jack Wright


"Zaiya," Valery said softly as she began to walk toward their destination, her tone warm but laced with a quiet gravity, "Stay close to me and keep your senses sharp. Hapes is battlefield right now. We'll need to tread carefully."

"Yes, Grandmaster." Zaiya replied, but her gaze was wide as she processed what she felt through the Force, the kyber crystal on her hairclip giving a faint glow at the emotional resonance.

The streets were far from the pristine image projected by the Consortium. Checkpoints dotted the grand boulevards, and whispers of fear hung in the air like a suffocating fog. Zaiya could feel it all -- the volatile swirl of emotions pressing against her like a smothering blanket, making her bioluminescent stripes dim with unease. Even Domxite's presence, steady as it was, couldn't fully counter the overwhelming weight.

"Grandmaster..." Zaiya's voice was soft but edged with caution as they descended into the city. "The emotions here are so... intense." Her iridescent patterns shifted faintly to grey, reflecting her unease. "I'm worried it will only escalate."

Ahead, the purposeful stride of an unfamiliar figure caught Zaiya's attention. Her stripes rippled amber, her senses flaring, but the presence in the Force reassured her -- a Jedi Knight, weary yet resolute. She inclined her head slightly in greeting, her tension easing as she awaited Valery's response.

Zaiya's thoughts churned as they moved closer to their destination. The Hapan Consortium was on the brink, fractured by assassination and retaliation. Every step closer to the heart of the conflict weighed heavier on her, but determination steadied her stride.

She might be young, overwhelmed even, but she was here to help in whatever way she could.

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Kalen had sent out orders ahead of time to all their cells in the Cluster. Stay in the cities and other densely populated areas where it will be impossible for them to bomb us out. Either they won’t risk the deaths of civilians, or they will shoot themselves in the foot letting innocents get hurt. He himself was hunkering down in an abandoned mine near a village. The Consortium’s forces didn’t know where he was, or so he believed. He kept an eye on the news, holos tuned in to every live broadcast playing before him.

Don’t worry about the looters and opportunists making us look bad. Protesters are a distraction; let them go before you, especially the college students. Let there be bright, promising young faces showing up on the news, not the grizzled veterans and angry young men that the public had come to associate with the Crimson Veil. Grotesque though it was, even non-Hapans tended to judge based on appearances. The former would draw more sympathy and outrage than the latter, especially if they ended up as casualties of the Queen Mother’s vengeance.

Don't use civilians as meat shields. That is what separates us from the Consortium; we do not shed innocent blood. The prince and his bride were nobles, which on Hapes meant they were part of a ruthless elite that would cut each other's throats if it meant they might have a chance at power. The admiral, while not an intended target that day, was a military man who had willingly put his life on the line. None of them fit the image of the cowering civilians pleading for mercy against brutal, vicious fanatics the Consortium was pushing.

Hapes had been burning for weeks by the time the Alliance showed up. Kalen had almost begun to suspect they would ignore the crisis. It would have worked in his favor either way. If the GA were weak and ineffectual or cold and callous, it showed that they were not the bastion of liberty and justice they claimed to be. But the GA did eventually act, sending their “peacekeeping” forces to the planet that had been tearing itself apart ever since the assassinations. They even mustered the Jedi Order to their cause, with the same caveats regarding wiping out rebels against an oppressive regime.

But that was just the problem, wasn’t it? The Alliance had welcomed that oppressive regime with open arms. They had passed a bill to try and balance the scales, but it wasn’t enough. The Consortium controlled the press, feeding the foreign powers lies about how they were implementing the new law. They invented statistics and came up with excuses. Executions via gun of command were easy to paint as suicides, after all.

“General.” A voice drew Kalen’s attention away from the holofeed. Commander Thane stood in the doorway, a strange look on his face. “It’s… Sinsor Galney, sir. He’s here and he wants to speak to you.”

Sinsor Galney wasn't his real name, but it was the only one Thane knew him by. Kalen sat very still. This was either a trap… or an offer. He remembered how the Jedi Master had turned on his own kind in order to save Kalen’s life at the wedding, and decided to take the risk.

Send him in.
 
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Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

Valery inclined her head slightly as Jack approached, her fiery gaze meeting his with a tempered intensity. "Knight Wright," she greeted, her tone warm but laced with the weight of their circumstances. "Thank you for joining us. I'm glad to have your help here."

She shifted her attention briefly to Zaiya, her expression softening despite the gravity of the moment. "It's already escalated, Zaiya," Valery said gently, her voice steady but firm. "Both sides are entrenched in their anger and pain. The Hapans are lashing out, and the Crimson Veil are fighting with desperation, but there are innocents caught between them — families, children. That's who we're here for."

Her gaze turned back to Jack as they began moving deeper into the city. "A solution will need to come from the diplomats," Valery continued. "Our task is to ensure as many lives as possible are protected until then. It's not going to be easy, but I know we're up to the challenge."

The group moved cautiously through the tense streets, the weight of the situation pressing heavily on all of them. Valery's senses extended outward, brushing against the volatile emotions swirling around them like a storm. The elegant facade of Hapes, with its shimmering structures and ornate checkpoints, only served to highlight the chaos simmering beneath.

As they approached a narrower section of the boulevard, Valery abruptly stopped, her body tensing as she scanned the area. Her fiery eyes narrowed, and her voice dropped to a calm but firm warning. "Hold up."

She extended her senses further, the Force rippling with unease around her. Her hand rested lightly on the hilt of her lightsaber as she turned to look at Jack and Zaiya. "We're walking into an ambush," she said, her voice low but steady. "Weapons are primed, and I can feel their intent. Stay close to me, and be ready."






 
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Kass arrived in the meeting hall with the other Alliance diplomats. For once in her life, she was glad to be so very different from the people around her. They couldn’t tell by her alien body language just how anxious she truly was—and she could hide her feelings from her fellow Jedi.

Please be careful, my love. She transmitted her love to Oukranos through the Force. Only she knew what he was doing, where he was now. He had confided in her that he was going to seek out Kalen on his own. To fulfill the promise he had broken a year ago.

Kass, meanwhile, was going to do her best to convince the Queen to stand down. She suspected Kha'la Daaray Kha'la Daaray would be receptive to their pleas for peace—or at least appear to be. The trick was to hold her to any promise she made. To not let Hapes slip through the cracks again, the oppression of its people mere background noise to the wars against the Sith.

Your Majesty,” she greeted the Queen after the First Lady had done the same, her gelatinous body bobbing in imitation of a bow. “Think of what you are doing to Hapes. If you heed nothing else in your quest for vengeance, heed the cries of your people."

 
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LOCATION: Hapes | OBJECTIVE: Protect Humanitarian work (III?)
TAG (ALLIES) : Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren | Rik Perris Rik Perris | Mother Askani Mother Askani | Lorn Reingard Lorn Reingard | Echo Athoth Echo Athoth | Kahne Porte Kahne Porte
TAG (FOES) : @



Hapes was a mess. A cacophony of explosions, flames, the sounds of weapons fire and destruction. Plague, famine and outright panic were the words of the day, as those poor souls caught in the middle of the Queen Mother’s Royal Army bearing down on everything in their path in the move to eradicate the terrorist “Crimson Veil”. Hapan men, and sympathizers driven to erratic and desperate, violent actions all for the general good of their people as a whole. There was also the Jedi of the New Jedi Order, and the The Galactic Alliance Defense Force Army on the ground as well.

It was a theater of pain and no one wanted tickets.

This encampment they had landed in could have been improved on, but that would have to come in time. Right now, it has to be secured. Though he was one of the most experienced here, and a Jedi Master, this was not his show. So the big man kept a watchful eye out for those who might cause and bring strife down on those who would be affected in the most heartbreaking of ways.

The confirmation came when he overheard one of the medics calling out to this encampment’s overseer. Strange, there was something familiar about her. He would focus on that later, right now there is the problem of securing this place.

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I’m moving out to the perimeter if anyone wants to come with me. Keep doing what you’re doing. They would not lose this area. No, that would not happen, Caltin was more than certain of that. He had to make sure of it. He was not the only one who could protect the area, but Caltin was one of the more powerful Guardians currently on the planet, next to his friend Kahne Porte Kahne Porte . He had to make sure no one else could come along and take what was set aside for the people who needed it the most. He would do whatever was necessary to keep the area safe. He would not let anyone take it away from him. This relief station would be protected at all costs, he was certain of that.

Glad to have loaded his "Watchmen" Jedi Transport into the cruiser, the big man loaded in, along with anyone else who was wanting to go like Briana Sal-Soren Briana Sal-Soren and no doubt Kahne Porte Kahne Porte and they were off. “Opening her up” the speed of the ground transport was tested, jumping over hills and bumps, all of the suspension being pushed. Those at the perimeter would not be left to their own devices, He was certain of that.

One thing Caltin was not certain of was who this “Mother Askani” person was. He recognized her from somewhere, but could not spot it. All he knew for certain was that he knew her from somewhere.

Why did that bother him?

Tapping the headset comm-link in his ear, he spoke into the air. [You on?]

[I am. Just landed.]

It was Connel, Shadow, and his son, the younger Vanagor was out there, somewhere, doing his thing and offering reconnaissance to the best of his ability.

[Northern route. Be safe.]

[You too.]
 

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