Faction [GA] The Hapan Crisis

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

The battlefield was chaos — smoke, fire, blaster bolts carving through the air in rapid succession — but Valery moved through it like a force of nature. Her violet blade flashed, each precise strike deflecting fire back at the enemy, every movement designed to push their advance forward.

Jack was already tearing through the turrets, a blur of blue and amethyst light, while Zaiya maneuvered for the walker's flank. They were making progress, but the war machine still loomed, its heavy cannons adjusting to track her next move.

Valery exhaled sharply, muscles coiling. She couldn't give it the chance.

She surged forward, the Force exploding beneath her heels. A fraction of a second before the walker's cannons ignited, she leaped, flipping through the air as a thunderous barrage struck where she had just been standing. The ground shattered beneath the assault, debris flying in every direction.

She landed gracefully, her blade carving a deep gouge along the walker's leg plating in an effort to weaken its stability. The armor was thick — too thick — but every strike mattered.

Then—

A sudden, overwhelming pull in the Force. Valery's breath hitched, her balance shifting mid-strike as something crashed into her senses. Amani Serys . Alicio Organa

The Palace.

A wave of emotions — grief, pain, something breaking apart and something else rising in its place. It was like a shockwave in the Force, rippling outward with a power that nearly staggered her. Valery clenched her jaw, pushing forward even as her mind reeled. Not now. Not yet.

She tapped her comms, her voice sharp, controlled, but edged with urgency. <Amani, Alicio, anybody — do you read? The landing zone is secure. If you need evac, we're ready.> There was no response yet, but she wasn't about to wait around. With renewed focus, Valery spun, her blade igniting in a powerful arc as she pressed the attack against the walker.

"We end this now."

Jack Wright Zaiya Ceti
Contacting: Alicio Organa Amani Serys Caelan Valoren Nos Voros | Others inside​

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tags: Valery Noble , Zaiya Ceti )

The second turret would meet a swift end, when Jack held his lightsaber like a torch this time, a two-handed grip as he raced under the dual barrels, sizzling clean straight through. Never breaking the stride.

Half the mounted weapon collapsed for the courtyard, out of harm's way.

Whirling about, the Knight taking care of the final turret behind, stabbing straight at its cell pack from the first's 'inspection,' withdrew his saber and leapt over the edge, skidding down the sloped wall to rejoin allies. The Force soothing the danger was almost over, but there's no time to lax, not until the Hapes forces would stand down.

Given their culture, unless their monarch ordered, it'd never happen.

 

[Kha'la Daaray]

For the briefest of moments, she saw it.

The Chancellor's blade, poised at his own throat, just as she had commanded. The final stroke of her will, bending even the highest of leaders to her law. Victory. Control. Justice. Then it all shattered. A burst of movement from behind. A flicker of blue. A sharp, searing pain that cut through her very core.

Kha'la gasped, her breath catching in her throat as the heat of a lightsaber blade burned through her chest. Her fingers twitched. The Gun of Command slipped from her grip, clattering to the marble floor in a dull, final ring. Her knees buckled. She staggered forward, her strength draining faster than she could grasp it, and only the Chancellor's hands — steady, catching — kept her from collapsing entirely.

She blinked, dazed, as she felt the warmth of his touch. Saw the horror in his face. He was trying to save her. It was useless. They both knew it. But for a moment, she let herself believe in the effort. A last, futile grasp at life. The guards watched in stunned silence, their blades frozen in mid-motion, their battle cries cut short by the sheer weight of what had just unfolded. Their Queen — strong, unyielding, the iron force of Hapes — was dying in the arms of an off-worlder.

Slain in honorable combat. Not victorious as she had envisioned.

She had lost.

She had broken the sacred rules of the duel, and now she was paying the price.

Kha'la's emerald gaze flickered as she reached weakly for Alicio's wrist, her grip feather-light, trembling. There was no anger now, no fire, only the hollow acceptance of a woman who had gambled everything and lost. "For my people," she whispered, her voice barely more than breath, fading with every syllable.

She swallowed hard, each moment heavier than the last. Her lips quirked in something that might have been a smile, had it not been laced with so much sorrow.

"You bested me, Chancellor. You deserve this victory." The words lingered, hovering in the air between them as her grip loosened, as the last breath slipped from her lungs. Her head tilted slightly, the sharp green of her gaze dulling as the fire within her flickered out.

And Kha'la Daaray was no more.

The weight of her final words pressed upon the room like a silent, invisible force. The Queen was dead. The guards stood frozen, staring at her fallen form, the last embers of the battle smoldering at their feet. Their Queen had commanded them to fight, to defend, to stand by her side until the end. And now? She had dishonored the duel. And she had lost.

There was no vengeance to be claimed here. No justification for another battle.

One by one, the blades lowered. The tension in the room did not dissipate — it thickened, coiling around every breath, every heartbeat — but it did not erupt into another fight.

They would not strike. But neither would they welcome the ones who had slain their Queen. This was not over. Then, through the thick silence, a voice cut through. Sharp. Commanding.

<Get out. Now. The evac point is secure—move!> - Valery Noble

Alicio Organa Amani Serys Caelan Valoren Nos Voros

​

 

[Caelan Valoren]

Even as she fell, Caelan disengaged his lightsaber and rushed towards where she was, just the same as Alicio had done. Like the other man, he could feel that no matter what, even the bead he wore around his neck could not save the Queen from this wound. She was well and truly dying, and not but the will of the Force itself could save her, and they all knew it would not do that.

He placed his hand upon her arm and looked at the woman he'd wished for nothing but to speak with.

"I am so sorry that we could not work this out in a better way," he said, his voice firm, resolute, but sad. "And I will do whatever I can to ensure the safety and security of your people."

His words barely escaped his lips before he felt the last of the life within her drain away. Deep within him something rumbled that he had not felt in a very long time. Anger. Anger not at the woman who lay dead, but at the people responsible for killing her. His hand trembled and he desired nothing more than to lash out at Amani for what she had done, the foolish mistake that she had made in killing the Queen in front of so many, in a place undoubtedly monitored by recording devices.

But he said nothing. The training of one raised as royalty combined with the training of a Jedi forced him to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he looked to the guards, who lowered their weapons, and then to Nos, who was still fighting. Lifting his hand, he erected a barrier of the Force between the man and the guards, protecting them from the stimmed up warrior.

"Enough," he said as he stood. "Follow after the others to evac."

He said nothing to either Amani or Alicio, but waited for Nos before he would leave. He did not want to see any further killing.

---

ATTIRE: LINK (The Second Image) | WEAPON: Lightsaber | COMPANION: BD-F8 | OTHER: Sigil Bead (Necklace)

TAGS: Kha'la Daaray | Alicio Organa | Nos Voros | Amani Serys | Lady Sylvia Organa ​

 

[Nos Voros]

Objective: Stand Down
Outfit: Senate Commando Armor [X]
Full Kit Deployment:

Spoiler: Full Kit

* Legion Combat Engineer Multi-Tool

• 4 X Combat/Utility Knife-Model 01
• 2 X Vibroblade-Model 01
• Cortosis Vibroblade
• Legion Combat Pistol Mark I with Whisper-class Suppressor Series
• Legion Crew Personal Protection Weapon Mark I
• Combat Scattergun-Model 01
• 3 X Modular Hand Grenade-Model 01
• 3 X Anti-Armor Grenade-Model 01

* GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor

• Combat Blaster Rifle-Model 01 with Tactical Accessories Series and Underbarrel Grenade Launcher-Model 01 (20 X Launchable Grenade Series)
• 4x blaster cartridges
• 2x stun grenades
• Ascension Pistol
• Fusion Lantern
• Datapad
• Garrote
• 3x stimpacks
• 3x bland survival bars
• 128oz Canteen of water.

The barrier of force stopped Nos's fist-mounted blade suddenly - his bloodshot eyes searched frantically through the visor for another threat - a force user, a Sith? Dissenting Jedi? His mind raced as Adrenalin and Cortisol continued to course through him like a cornered animal

"Enough," he said as he stood. "Follow after the others to evac."

Only with the words of the young lord did Nos regain his senses. The stillness of the room - mournful regrets and veiled fury from the occupants.

The sound of his heartbeat rushing blood through his head was accompanied only by the quiet but steady beep of his biometrics detailing various injuries.

Wordlessly, Nos tried to stand upright and at attention, to separate himself from the near-overdose of injections that kept him upright. Right arm Limp and left leg unable to support his weight, he made for a poor sight - but he did stand down.
A moment of stillness and a few deep breaths was all it took for the pain to begin to truly register. This felt like the longest day of his life.
Underneath the exhaustion, determination, and duty that controlled Nos, another emotion brewed, fueled by the compromised state of a Zeltron at pharmaceutical capacity.

Contempt.

Aside from the crimes of their queen - more important to Nos despite his loyalty - they had injured Sylvia.

If the time came to spill more Hapan Blood, Nos would be there. Every drop of Sylvia's blood spilled would be repaid thousandfold.

~Exit~​

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

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

The walker's cannon swivelled in her direction, and Zaiya's heart raced, her vibrant blue and bright yellow spots shifting under the strain of tension. She pressed herself into the Force, quickening her pace, and barely evaded the next volley of blasts, the shockwave rattling her body as the ground beneath her cracked. She barely had the chance to steady herself, pushing through as she found a vulnerabilty.

There! Domxite confirmed through the Force.

Her blade met the walker's leg plating with a harsh spark, a deep gash cutting into the thick metal, but the weight of the machine still held strong. Zaiya cursed under her breath, moving to strike again, only for a surge in the Force to send her stumbling for a moment. A rush of grief, pain, and something she couldn't place reverberated through her senses.

She barely registered the urgency in Valery's voice but her words cut through the moment like a cold rush of clarity:

"We end this now."

Zaiya's heart thudded in her chest. With a deep breath, the Lovalla Padawan refocused and surged forward, her movements a blur as she drove her blade into the walker's armor again. Her glow brightened, a sharp flash of gold pulsing along the edges of her spots as she pressed on.

With their combined attacks, it was enough to finally bring the walker down.

"Move out of the way!" Zaiya shouted, urging all to move from the danger as the walker came collapsing down, the Lovalla herself summoning the Force to quickly dart from under the heavy weight before it came crashing down.

With the landing zone now safe, they just now needed to ensure the safe evacuation of the delegation.

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani watched with dawning horror as Alicio raised the saber to his own neck, fully on the verge of finishing himself off at the Queen's command. But Kha'la dropped the weapon in the moment she was stabbed, and in that moment, there was enough of a lull that Alicio could break free from the spell. He almost immediately rushed to Kha'la, and Amani found her gaze now firmly drawn to the Queen as well. The anger had left her visage, reality sinking in in her final moments. Amani did not even try to heal her, not out of scorn, but out of understanding; Not even the Chief Healer herself could mend this wound.

Did Amani regret what she had done? She regretted that it had come this far, maybe. But when she looked at the welt still hot against her husband's neck, she could not say she regretted making a choice. Perhaps it was merely defense of an innocent. Or perhaps it was selfish. Perhaps she would have to spend many hours contemplating today's events, and her role in them. But for now, she could only accept the outcome, and make sure no one else became a victim today.

The Queen used her last breaths to admit her defeat. And then, she was gone. When her body was set on the ground, Amani shut her eyes, "Be with your brother again, Queen Daaray…" The Chief Healer muttered a final prayer as her once-foe returned to the Force. The guards seemed to have lost their fight. And thankfully, Nos was snapped out of his warrior trance before he could cause too much more damage.

<Get out. Now. The evac point is secure—move!>

Amani slowly stood up, lifting Alicio by the arm as she did, "We need to go." She then tapped into her comms, <This is Amani. We're on our way.> There was no urgency in her voice. Her tone was flat, and drained.

Then, she began to walk.

Kha'la Daaray - Alicio Organa
Caelan Valoren - Nos Voros​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Hapes
Presence of a Fading Queen
- Kha'la Daaray - Nos Voros - Amani Serys - Caelan Valoren - Others -
​

Alicio didn't offer Kha'la any words, at least, not to begin with.

He sat there in silence as Caelan joined the dying queen. She spoke her last words, and Alicio was silent. She had done this for her people, she said. Not all of them, he didn't say. He didn't let the words write themselves on his face either, letting her final moments go uncontested. She deserved as much.

Caelan spoke in promises and admonishments, his grief palpable in every word. Whether he spoke for the queen's benefit, or for his own state of mind, Alicio couldn't say. Again, he was silent.

Only once he felt Kha'la's light truly begin to fade did he open his mouth. What would he want to hear? He considered his words, then chose only four.

"Rest well, Queen Mother."

After a moment, Alicio Organa let the Hapan's lifeless body touch the ground, staring at her face, something dark and unreadable in his expression. Amani helped him to his feet, but he didn't move for a moment, monolithic in thought. A single cloud of white-cold breath billowed in front of his face. Then, his features became present again, and he turned away from the body, headed for the exit.

He only stopped twice. First, to beckon his lightsaber back to his hand with the Force. And then... he stopped at the flagging, prone form of a Royal Guard. It was unclear who had punctured her chest- perhaps Nos, or one of the other Alliance detail. He stooped low, pressed a hand against her sternum, let warm energy pass between them... then kept walking, without sparing a glance back.

If only healing all wounds from today could be so simple.

 

[Rayia Si]

Corazona von Ascania Haliat Kryze Jenn Kryze Roman Vossari
Location: Moonside Inn
Objective: Hostage Rescue

---

As Rayia knelt besides Cora and tried to pull her towards cover, she found that Cora wouldn’t budge. Rayia’s lips thinned into a stern line behind her fangs. Clawed fingers pulled at Cora’s shoulders more insistently. It wasn’t as if Rayia didn’t understand Cora’s feelings. After all, she wasn’t exactly sure that she would be able to forget the scene herself. ‘But we don’t have time for this. Sitting around in the open is asking for trouble.’ At least Cora and Haliat had suppressed the Crimson Veil and Roman had retrieved the sabers that were taken from them.

Golden eyes flicked briefly to her fellow padawan as she watched him retreat to the safety of obscurity. Rayia would have preferred that he speak up; attempted to interject some concerns about the pressing nature of the escalating situation outside. Perhaps out of everyone, he best represented the gentleness expected from them. Everyone else… was simply too used to war.

Rayia let go of Cora’s shoulders as she stood to face Jenn and restrain the hostage takers. Rayia stood slowly, coming between Jenn and Cora as Cora’s admonishment provoked an argument. Her brows pinched together at the way her potential mother and possible friend nipped at each other. With the slightest modicum of exasperation Rayia sighed, “It’s not the killing. It’s the how and why.” She was struck by the similarities between the two. Both equally inspiring. Both equally stubborn to a fault. It was probably why they were such good friends. And, it was currently a distraction.

Coming to stand by Jenn, Rayia reached up and tapped her soon to be mother’s arm. “Please, Jenn, this is important. Don’t dismiss it out of hand,” she said. Rayia’s flashing, golden eyes affixed Cora with a feline stare. “The moment could have been chosen better, however. Now, can we please get out of here before the Hapans remember they don’t like-“

Rayia never finished her sentence as a shaped charge detonated the nearest wall to rubble. She had been so distracted by the prickle of emotional turmoil within the room, that she had completely missed the sensation of a group of Hapan soldiers closing in on their position and planting explosives. A sharp piece of rubble flew past Rayia’s face as she twisted out of the way. A line of heat etched itself onto her face, brimming with a pooling warmth that slowly began to trickle from it.

Crimson stained and disappeared into her crimson cloak as Rayia’s eyes flashed between Jenn and the Hapan captain demanding the surrender of Jedi into her care. ‘And what tender care that would be,’ Rayia thought. Judging by the tension filling every fiber of the Hapan’s being and the oozing anger wafting from her, Rayia doubted the captain would treat them well.

Remaining silent as Jenn parlayed with the Hapans, Rayia allowed her cloak to envelop her. Muscles moved beneath her cheek, drawing the laceration to a fresh, pink line as new flesh was woven into the wound. Rayia’s ears perked up as the Hapan captain declared that the Jedi were complicit in treason and demanded that Jenn step aside so that the Queen’s justice might be performed. It left a familiar bitterness in Rayia’s mouth. One that she couldn’t help but snarl at. “Do not insinuate I betrayed anyone again.”

The news that the haggard soldier brought struck Rayia dumb. The Jedi were not murderers. The notion was… disturbing. “Not one of that delegation would murder someone,” she cried, conceding ground as a snarling Hapan soldier charged towards her. The time for talking was over, and Rayia knew better than to waste further breath. She needed to concentrate on the here and now. Rayia fended off a thrust with Light Fang, parrying the blow to the outside as she shoved the woman backwards with the force. Undeterred, the woman stumbled back to her feet and swiped her vibrosword towards Rayia’s legs. ‘The information has to be wrong. It has to be!’ Rayia thought, leaping backwards to create enough space.

 

[Haliat Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Moonside Inn
| Objective | Salvage something from the fire
| Focus | Fight

Haliat had quickly done as Corazana asked of them, and as he was the one who'd issued the Hastati their most recent instructions, he signaled them to cease fire as well. There seemed little benefit in obstinacy; their blaster fire was being absorbed by the barrier which the Jedi royal had conjured. Had he been of a mind to press on and finish off their opponents, the most efficient and direct way he could think of to neutralize said barrier would be to shoot Cora first. As that would be rather at odds with their purpose here, never mind his own preferences on the matter, he holstered his gun instead to let words play out.​

​

That didn't last long, of course. A pity under any circumstances, given the alternative, but particularly regrettable here. In this time and place, surrounded by multiple trusted voices which did not belong to a speaker over whom Jenn enjoyed any direct authority, circumstances seemed very much aligned to give talk a chance. The Duchess was angry, yes, and proud as ever, but at the same time more vulnerable than he could ever recall seeing her. Less the glittering symbol, relentlessly chasing her own legend, and more the actual person having an actual, if tense conversation.​

​

But the fire could not be kept at bay indefinitely, and when the fighting did break out once more, Haliat would not be caught wrong-footed. He had not budged from his spot by Corazana's side, but that didn't stop one of the Hapani soldiers from charging, blade in hand. So be it. A measured lean backward took him just a fraction of an inch outside the arc of the vibrosword's slash, just before his own beskad left its scabbard and batted aside an attempted followup strike in a single movement. There would be no third attempt allowed; the Nite Owl's gauntlet shield died briefly, just long enough to expose the gauntleted fist that was sent crashing into the valiant woman's face. Whatever time the Hapani soldier might have required to fully recover from being staggered so, it was less than Haliat required to switch his sword into a reverse grip better suited for the close distance and take his opponent across the throat with the blade.​

​

"I'm sorry, your Highness," he uttered softly as his shield flared back to life, trusting the amplification of his helmet's speaker to carry his words to Corazona von Ascania . "I don't think there's any defusing this now. But this is all pointless if you're not safe. Do as you must. I'll have your back."​

​

| Friendly | Corazona von Ascania Jenn Kryze Rayia Si Roman Vossari ​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Jenn Kryze Roman Vossari Haliat Kryze Rayia Si

The chaos halted - not without lingering confusion - and then, it began again.

The Hapan military had arrived, and in the same breath praised the Mandalorians for their aid, and demanded they cease their protection of the Jedi. Jenn, ever honorable and stalwart in her sense of justice, refused to back down. Instead, she tried to reason.

“But these Jetiise... are under my protection. One among them is my own kin.”

In the cold tension of the room, the Alor's words inspired a spark of warmth in the Jedi's chest. Her eyes softened, briefly. Then, they flared in surprise at the news of the Queen's death by the hand of their Order. Much like Rayia, she believed the information to be false.

Still, the seed of dread in her stomach started to flourish. Shock rooted her to her spot as a Hapan soldier charged, only to be quickly dispatched by Haliat.

"I'm sorry, your Highness," he uttered softly as his shield flared back to life, trusting the amplification of his helmet's speaker to carry his words to Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania . "I don't think there's any defusing this now. But this is all pointless if you're not safe. Do as you must. I'll have your back."

He was right - there was wisdom in knowing when to use your words, and when to raise your blade.

"The hostages," she said. They couldn't try to release them in the midst of this conflict. "We'll get them out. Then, we leave."

For all the might the Alliance had, for all the wisdom and strength the Jedi Order wielded, there was a harsh, simple truth in the fact that they could not save everyone. Not every situation has a perfect, pretty ending that was satisfying to all. Perhaps if she hadn't protected the Crimson Veil from Mandalorian fire, they would've been gone before the Hapan military had arrived.

With that thought twisting in her mind, Cora's head whipped around, spotting the flame-red hair of her apprentice. She ducked beneath fire, quick steps bringing her to Roman's side, relief touching her to see that he appeared physically unharmed.

"Roman," she hissed, tone urgent. "The basement, the hostages - let's move."

The gears of her mind shifted into overdrive as they clambered down the steps and into the terrified crowd. Who'd been on the delegation again? There were other Jedi here, too. Were they alright? Were they alive?

Having retrieved her blade from Roman, Cora didn't register see the movement of her own hand as she sliced through the basement's padlocked door, opening them to the pandemonium outside. Civilians streamed out, crying in surprise and relief at their newfound freedom.

Upstairs, the Crimson Veil would be left to their fate. Upstairs, her friends were holding off Hapan fire. Upstairs, Cora gave an urgent nudge in the Force to Jenn and Rayia.

It was time to leave.