Faction [GA] The Hapan Crisis

[Karrys]

Objective Two

When the unknown voice identified itself as Jedi (worse, still, a Padawan), the Mandalorian rolled her eyes, a groan escaping her lips. Though the Duchess had somewhat warmed up to a few Jedi herself, her loyal pilot held no such sentiment in her heart, regarding the Order and its creed with a certain disdain. Force this, Force that, unending talks of spirituality and peace and all such nonsense - it had a way of getting to her, scratching past her affable exterior and earning a point of ire. No words of dismissal slipped from her lips, however; her attention was all too engrossed in the task at hand before long, ignoring the chattering in her ear. If Padawan Varek thought the situation was still salvageable, then the Jedi really were even more deluded than she had last known them to be, an iteration or two ago. With the Hapan Consortium's forces now engaging in all-out battle against the GADF 283rd, she felt confident enough to throw diplomacy off to the side.

Jenn would understand. And if she did not, then she was not worthy of her position. It really was that simple to the pilot. All thoughts of repercussions and recriminations were dissipated by the sound of Iram's voice, earning a wide, fanged grin from the one-woman extermination team. Hell, the strident sound made by her console in the wake of so many missile locks only pleased her.

Adrenaline coursed through Karrys' body, giving her the kind of high she kept on chasing throughout the many, many years spent fighting across the stars, under so many different flags. Life and death; a struggle that gave texture to her long life, allowed her to keep on enjoying her time spent in the world of the living, no matter how many friends and rivals she had seen come and go.

This was what she lived for.

To her surprise, the Padawan came to her aid, accompanied by her squadron of interceptors; evidently, the firebrand of a pilot had somewhat misjudged the young woman. An idealistic fool, to be sure, but also a skilled enough pilot with some real guts. For a moment, she was content to watch the Alliance's pilots at work, her gaze as sharp as a shriek-hawk's as she drank in the way they went about pursuing their task of eliminating incoming missiles headed right for her dropship, so very slow and ungainly compared to their own. Not that she needed the help of those youngsters, but it felt nice, to be appreciated. If she wanted to call it that.

Of course, even that courageous lot could not screen all incoming missiles, as was to be expected; a fact she almost seemed to relish in, if the chuckle she let out over the comms was any indication.

<Not bad, Lyer! Could have used some of you back on Ukatis - that would have made things a lot more interesting then!>

The ramshackle electronics of her sturdy, dependable dropship spoke of three incoming missiles left, though she looked through the canopy to confirm that information; making a sharp, yet calculated turn, the Nite Owl watched the first two streak right by the nose of her craft, laughing all the while, all too glad to show off a little. When the third came in, she considered using her ship's limited flares, only to go for a sudden dive instead, laughing her heart out all the while. The thrill of almost being hit, of coming this close to complete and utter ruin - therein lie the reason why she had chosen to become a pilot in this latest cycle of hers, having mastered all there was to be learned in other fields of warfare and found herself dreadfully bored. Here, the challenge was different, reliant on reflexes, guts, and daring.

Rapidly closing in on ground level, she could practically see the Hapans chattering among themselves, trying to react to the Jedi's sudden assistance as their anti-air capacities were crippled. And with their anti-air done with, all that was left would be their man-portable weapons... a prospect that practically made Karrys salivate at the thought of tearing any squad a little too daring to try and take a shot at her into ribbons.

<Bloodhound receiving! Missile pods are about empty, but I'll do what I can, Lyer - just keep any bandits off of me!>

It was only a dropship, after all. A Mandalorian's idea of one, which of course meant it came equipped with enough heavy weaponry to level a village or two, but a dropship nonetheless. There were only so many missiles for her to bring to bear, and her first strafing run against the GADF had done little to help her keep those reserves. Not that she intended to play it safe. If that Padawan was willing to put her neck on the line for her, then who was she to deny her the courtesy of following her instructions, much as she loathed the idea of being ordered around by a Jedi?

With the 283rd so expertly disabling the remaining main battle tanks in the wake of her second run, there was little opportunity for her to go armor hunting again without hitting friendlies; as such, she fired what was left of her explosive payload in a rough line, devastating anything and anyone trying to push back against the Alliance's counter-attack.

That ought to give them some breathing room.

Sharply regaining altitude after that little performance of hers, Karrys did not shoot over the area of operation and start banking to the side to come around again this time, choosing instead to activate the dropship's VTOL capacity to maintain her position. Did it make her a sitting duck? Certainly. Did she particularly care? Not really.

Not when it gave her such a good position to open up with the rotaries, throwing her head back and laughing like a hyena in the face of the carnage she inflicted on the unfortunate warrior women below. From up here, they looked like the insignificant ants they truly were. Pathetic flicker-lives, specks of dust compared to the majesty and might of her person, of the blood coursing through her veins.

Though Mandalorian knew the roaring of the blasters might drown out her voice, but she had fiddled with her dropship's speaker system enough to break through the din of battle. Flipping up a switch, she watched a light turn green as they crackled to life. It was time to remind those Hapans of what happened to those who crossed the Mando'ade.

"K'ASH'AMUR DI'KUTLA UTREEKOVE!"​

Oh, yes. As the old Mandalorian saying went, today really was a good day for someone else to die.


Aadihr Lidos | Drystan Creed | Lycus Merita | Ben Khal

 

[Kassogtha Cthylla]

Raigryn Vayd Caelan Valoren Amani Serys Alicio Organa Kha'la Daaray Lady Sylvia Organa Nos Voros Valette Puritis Yumia
​

Though it was true that Pylantians were unaccustomed to conflict, Kass was no pushover. As soon as the Queen Mother issued her decree and the EMP went off, the librarian grasped both her lightsaber hilts, activating the blades and holding them at the ready. Master Organa did the same, activating her pike.

Others seemed more reluctant to act. She saw two men, one young and one old, submit to being political prisoners. They seemed remarkably calm, considering a Senator was shot in the head only a few feet away from where they stood.

The Senator of Alderaan tearfully smooched her Zeltron bodyguard in a parting scene straight out of a movie. The Chancellor made a final effort at reasoning with the Queen. Kass didn't think she would buy his offer to take a walk, but if even his Jedi wife was fine with leaving him at the Queen's mercy, she wouldn't stick around playing bodyguard.

"Out of the way!" she commanded the Hapan royal guards with all of her voices, infusing the words with power. They obeyed, and she began ushering the would-be prisoners out.

 

[Shan Pavond]

Beads of sweat built up on Shan's brow as he tried to focus. This was more intense than he was used to. Even if Kahlil was carrying most of the work, Shan was doing his hardest to try and take some of the burden. Not just from Kahlil, but from all of the Jedi they could feel through the Song. It was going to be hard work. Taxing mentally on his heart. But that was one of his strongest muscles. He wasn't physically strong. He wasn't some kind of genius, but what Shan had in spades was heart. He cared. As much as he'd rather be in his room, studying or training over his medical skills, he was here because he cared.

It was a peculiar feeling for Shan. He hated having attention on himself. Hated having focus on him. But in this exact moment, he could feel so many different waves connecting him and Kahlil across the cluster. Shan knew they could feel the pair in return. The small ripples through the Force that he saw as an ocean were crashing waves. Waves that caressed and flowed through the Galaxy to connect the Jedi and any other Force-Sensitive. Letting them feel that they weren't alone in this battle. Through a comforting warmth, the feeling of a hand on their shoulder or just a guiding gaze. Of course, through the battle meditation, Shan would be trying to influence the non-force sensitives as well. Encouraging those on his side to keep pushing. To keep trying their hardest for the purpose of the Light, whilst making sure that the innocent civilians caught up in this mess could feel some form of hope. They weren't alone. Finally, he was trying to discourage the Crimson Veil and Hapan Soldiers from carrying on the fight. It wouldn't affect them all...but it would at least influence some.

Of course...the recent order from the Queen would perhaps make the effects of the Battle Meditation more useless but Shan wasn't going to give up. Even if the Hapans saw him as an enemy, he wouldn't abandon them. Leave them to senseless slaughter each other and the Crimson Veil. Some form of his peace was the goal he longed for. There were far more negative emotions starting to swirl in the cosmos but the strength of the Light and Shan's desire for peace was able to fight against it.

There were certain Jedi that Shan had focused on supporting more. The connections he had to them already having been strong before the Song. He could sense the danger they were in....@Valery Noble, Vera Noble Zaiya Ceti , Jasper Kai'el , Jenn Kryze , Corazona von Ascania and Amani Serys , and that only pushed him harder. He was relatively safe where he was. How could he hold back, when they weren't? Pushing himself past his limits as the Mirialan clenched his fists. He had to push. More. And more.

They weren't alone in this fight. None of them were. It had taken Shan a long time to realise that truly. The Force connected all of them. Their pain. Their suffering. But also their joy. Their warmth. It was expected that there'd be some who'd probably push back against the feeling. Those who wanted to be alone. Or to shut themselves off. Though Shan would still spend his energy on trying to be there for them. To always reassure them they weren't alone. No-one was in this fight.

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

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

Glad to know that he was not going to do this alone, Caltin moved into a cover position as those who were tending to the wounded, and the trapped (in the transport). This entire situation went from an assassination to a Force Awful mess. Death, Destruction, Mayhem, for what? For a show of power? A movement you lost any right to when you escalate it to murder? Caltin was disgusted. He could not believe the situation had gotten to this point. He was determined to stop it, no matter what the cost.

That belief was put into question the moment that the big man saw Crimson Veil bearing down on them… from one direction… and the Queen’s army(he would not call them by their preferred name, they last that right)... from the other. Vanagor was about to reach for his lightsaber, but the weapons fire, the crossfire was the last straw to the dewback’s back that was his patience.

Yes, he felt a sense of calm, but was experienced enough to know that it was inorganic. It was projected by a Knight, a Knight he knew, Pavond… not the snarky one either. He could feel the empathy for those out there, which made him feel for those being tended to even more. No, (if he could help it) none of these individuals would be killed… but they would either run, or lose their weapons in a flash…

Still, Caltin could tell how hard the song was being sung. He could tell how much effort Pavond was putting into this. Appreciative of the kid’s efforts. He was not happy that the Hapans were firing on them and getting closer. They were clearly CLEARLY providing relief…

Tapping his ear again, Caltin called out.

[If you can...]

[Stalking a unit that’s trying to stalk you guys.] He knew that if Connel was available, he would be there.

Rubbing his hands, taking a deep breath and turning back to everyone in earshot.

A storm is about to brew! Caltin is exceptional with his skills of controlling the environment. He was ready to create chaos and confusion. He was about to unleash his powers. Everyone was holding their breath in anticipation as the big man held his arms up and out to either side, he called upon the Force to assist him. He called upon every bit of strength, of will, and fiber in his being to pull this off. Everything in him, down to the electrical synapses in his brain were directing this event.

As bursts of electrical energy surged through and around his body, he grew stronger in his resolve. Pulling the already powerful rain into his advantage, Caltin was pulling all of the available oxygen, the hydrogen, and began swirling it violently into more intense rain… eventually wind… and…

CRACK

Lightning.

The closer opposing forces pushed towards the coalition, the more natural pushback they encountered. The entire storm was blowing right at both of the forces bearing down on them. If they were able to make it through THIS storm? Crimson Veil, Royal Forces… they DESERVE to attack these Jedi and relief forces. Caltin was not letting up either. This was going to take something out of him(it already was) but he was only here to do the heavy lifting. To create this diversion. So that is what he was doing.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Field Attire, Earring, Bangle
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | Slugthrower Rifle

Aadihr offered a weak smile on the stretcher to the GADF medics, and his Earring began to glow with a dim light - soothing as it did, slowly repairing the stress-torn muscles and the burning of his arm. Aadihr stood and saw something wonderful.

It was comfort, the Force all around the sky began to glow - a chorus of lights in harmoniously vibrant hues. At its center, Kahlil Noble and Shan Pavond orchestrating am aurora borealis of lights in the force spectrum - every signature was a voice that fed to the choir, and the choir fed that same love into every voice.

It was more than just a battle meditation - it was harmony, peace, understanding. Aadihr's once rage-burning arm was now painless, the scar receding in the calm. Aadihr opened his heart, feeding his force-light into the choir, spreading the saber song further, helping the lights wash over the battlefield and the village. It was a powerful thing, adjusting the hues of all auras from the force sight perspective.

The combined light of the Jedi coalesced into brilliant vortex above the site of tragedy.

It was like looking directly at Ashla, and being shown that everything will be okay.

Everything will be okay.

You are not alone.

Aadihr had no eyes to see, no tears to shed, but he wept at the sight.

Azurine Varek | Drystan Creed | Lycus Merita | Shan Pavond | Kahlil Noble | Valery Noble | Diogo Talon | Kha'la Daaray @all jedi​

 

[Nos Voros]

OBJECTIVE 1

Outfit: Senate Commando Armor
Full Kit Deployment:

Spoiler: Full Kit

* Legion Combat Engineer Multi-Tool

• 4 X Combat/Utility Knife-Model 01
• 2 X Vibroblade-Model 01
• 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

* Bastion-class Load Bearing/Combat Vest and Helmet

• 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.

Nos hesitated - glaring at the royal guard across from him, who did the same.

Something was happening. The empathic telepathy in the room was going wild - and not how expected. It was warmth, shared sorrow, and understanding. Forgiveness and mourning, unity and peace.

Feelings Nos rarely felt. His scattergun pointed at the royal guard, one of the few remaining with the queen still standing, also kept their weapon trained, but their face had the same calm confusion he shared.

Lady Sylvia Organa had cut open the door and the Rubrus senate CQB squad was at the other end, guiding the fleeing senators - all sounds of blaster fire ceased.

Nos slowly pressed his com link active, and spoke carefully, lowd enough for the queen and the guard to hear. "Rubrus actual, stand down. The senators are safe; proceed with exfiltration. Do not engage further, repeat do not engage further."

"Rubrus actual standing down"

Nos slowly lowered the barrel of his scattergun, and the royal guard did the same. Both sides experienced loss and injured the other, but the potential for catastrophe was suddenly painfully clear for all present.

Nos could hardly believe himself, it was almost like one of those Jedi Mind Tricks he had heard about - but it felt. . . It felt true. It felt right.

Nos remained, so long as the chancellor was here and the boy king of Lazerian IV - now a man, he would stand guard. t
The Jedi had done something miraculous: they had pried a second chance at peace from the gnashing fangs of war.

The lives of millions - no - billions, now depended solely on Alicio Organa , Caelan Valoren and Kha'la Daaray - odds Nos normally would never take.

But this was anything but normal.

Alicio Organa Amani Serys Kha'la Daaray Kahlil Noble Ran Serys
Caelan Valoren @Ojective 1​

 

[Drystan Creed]

THE HAPAN CRISIS: OBJECTIVE II

ARMOR
"You have been misinformed—perhaps deceived," Drystan said, his voice flat, matter-of-fact. "Your soldiers fired on this village. They turned their weapons on the innocent. I will not stand by and watch the innocent perish."

Words, however, would not be enough. The Padawan was too far gone in his convictions. Drystan needed to find a way to subdue him before he got himself killed. His hand crept toward his holstered blaster, fingers flicking the setting to stun.

Before he could act, a stray blaster shot streaked toward his helmet. Reflex took over—his lightsaber snapped up, deflecting the bolt wide, but the reaction lacked precision. It was instinct, not intent. The momentary distraction was enough.

Ben's golden blade struck.

Drystan twisted at the last second, turning what would have been a fatal impalement into a glancing hit. The saber seared against his stomach plating, melting through the metal. The heat licked at his skin beneath, pain flaring from the scalded armor. He stepped back, pressing a gloved hand to the smoldering strike, assessing the damage.

His armor was compromised. With a sharp tug, he pulled apart melted circuitry and warped plating, revealing chiseled musculature and scarred pale skin beneath, a light pink line now across it.

Then, his eyes flicked to the horizon.

A Hapan force was advancing—soldiers, armored vehicles, a wall of firepower closing in fast. His gaze returned to Ben. He had to decide.

"The situation has changed," he said, voice edged with finality. "I have no time to waste babysitting a Padawan. Leave now. Or I will make you regret staying."

Drystan wasn't confident he could subdue the boy quickly enough to face the Hapans. The situation was dire. Surrounded, outnumbered, hostility closing in from all sides. He stood alone.

Or was he?

At first, it was subtle—a quiet resonance in the Force, threading through his mind like a whisper. A familiar hum, Jedi near and far, connected in harmony.

The Force-song was… pleasant. But unnecessary. He didn't need comfort. He didn't need reassurance. He needed to finish the mission. No matter the cost.

And yet, for all his pragmatism, he did not sever the connection. He let it linger at the edges of his awareness, a distant presence. Perhaps to avoid alarming the others if he rejected it outright.

Or was it something else?

He had no time for the answer. For now, he would remain connected, his own emotions silent—a practiced habit, ritually exercised by the Shadow.

Lycus Merita | Ben Khal | Aadihr Lidos | Azurine Varek | Karrys

 

[Ben Khal]

Drystan Creed​

Ben no longer heard what the Knight was saying.

He thought only of the gun of command in the hand of the Crimson Veil assassin who had shot him, then ordered him to kill himself. He remembered the cold metal of his lightsaber emitter against his temple, his sense of self-preservation dulled until he nearly obeyed.

He had been awake and aware when his master betrayed him, unable to do anything but watch as he stunned the Jedi who tried to stop Kalen. Even now, Oukranos was marching with the GADF, killing Hapan troops. Killing his people.

His world was burning, dying, tearing itself apart. They were at war. He was standing on a battlefield. But this Jedi wanted to talk morals.

Elsewhere on the planet, an oblivious Shan Pavond initiated battle meditation, drawing all the Jedi of the Order under its sway. The Knight and Padawan were both ensnared in its web. Drystan Creed let the power flow, ambivalent to its influence. Ben was swept up in it. Any lingering doubts about where his true allegiance lay were obliterated by the fiery heat of zeal. He was, in that moment, utterly convinced that what he was doing was right. The battle meditation had unwittingly turned him into a fanatic.

His golden blade struck the Knight's stomach, burning through armor and sizzling flesh. He didn't stop there, already moving to strike again even as Drystan stepped back, tearing at melted circuitry and plating.

"The situation has changed. I have no time to waste babysitting a Padawan. Leave now. Or I will make you regret staying."

"You're no Jedi," Ben spat, lunging at him.

 

[Dulcinea Mina]

Wearing: Viper Skinsuit

Armed With: DC-15N (Fitted with Lightsaber Bayonet )


Dulcinea lay inert on the operating table, Westenra Mina standing over her. The blank biot had been shipped to her safehouse on Atrisia, Express delivery from the Psi-Pires.

She was there to conduct a forbidden experiment.

She still remembered that brief period when She had thought Laertia a hero. She had carefully studied Laertia. Enough that she wrote a personality that, while not a recreation of the original Laertia per se (Even West was smart enough to know a one for one recreation of the original Laertia was a bad, BAD idea), was more a ballpark estimate of the characteristics Westenra had so admired.

She had, with great difficulty, shifted out of her form as The Demon of Jedha , not wanting her new creation to see a blood soaked killer upon awakening.

It was dark in the operating room as she uploaded the personality.

Vera may have decided the morality experiments had ended.

Westenra had never agreed to that.

She wanted to know, more than anything else, WHAT WENT WRONG. The question blazed across her database, driving her coding mad.

Had it been circumstances? Or had it been something inherently within Laertia's character? If it was the latter...when had it come into being?

Westenra's finger hovered over the activation remote. She hesitated. She had muddied the waters somewhat. Given her samples of West's own programming. But it was ninety nine percent based off the personality profile she had constructed after that original invasion on Atrisia by Mythos.

They could never know who her daughter's persona was derived from. She would become an instant pariah. Vera might even order Dulcinea and all her personality back ups destroyed as a precaution.

But West had to know.

West hit the remote and Dulcinea's eyes fluttered open as she sat up on the table, covered in an urban camouflage pattern catsuit.

"Hello, Dulcinea..." West said gently as Dulcinea examined her hands.

"I'm your mother..."

Dulcinea blinked. "Designate registered."

"What are your primary directives?"

"To serve The House Li-Ves with valor and honor." Dulcinea answered.

"What is best in life?" West asked.

Dulcinea didn't even have to think about it.

"To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to look as awesome and dramatic as possible while doing it, going total ham and beyond as you continuously try to top yourself."

(Narrator: Yeah, that sounds about right.)

Westenra maintained her composure.

"What is second best?"

Dulcinea smiled at the question "Card Tricks..." she answered.

"Okay...I'm satisfied your programming is functioning..." West said. Surely this wouldn't blow up in her face down the road.

(Cutaway of J. Jonah Jameson laughing uncontrollably)

"C'mon, let's go buy you a rabbit..."

Dulcinea gave a girlish squeal of delight and hopped off the table...



Present...

Dulcinea's systems came alive as she woke up in the streets of Hapes, near the Palace, the shuttle that had her and a few soldiers and Jedi on board having been shot down.

It was on. The Hapan Royalty had decided to crush all opposition, even if it meant sacrificing Alliance membership.

Dulcinea, a grunt in the Alliance military, dragged herself out of the crashed shuttle, everyone else dead. Her skinsuit was a camo pattern customized to the local urban environment. And a lot of angry Hapan Soldiers closing in on her position.

Ignorant as to larger forces at work, Dulcinea set her DC-15N to burst and began unloading on the group in front of her, punching through their armor. It was during moments like this, outnumbered, slaughter all around her, that Dulcinea was at her most focused.

The Soldier Biot kept a tight aim, her targeting protocols allowing her a slight ability to potentially predict movement patterns as she began to press forward, switching to full auto, activating the green lightsaber bayonet as she went full Vlad and skewered a Hapan Warrior as she had leveled a shotgun at her, kicking her brutally into three others. Dulcinea beheaded and dismembered another with a vicious spin of her heavy, lightsaber tipped rifle, before spraying down yet another squad firing on her.

A grenade landed next to her and only her superhuman traits allowed her to clear the blast in time, suffering only minor scratch damage to the surface of her body, which bled red like a human in the areas the shrapnel struck.

Dulcinea sprayed down the one who threw it before a Hapan soldier sliced her rifle in half with a glittering, double edged sword. Dulcinea somersaulted and cartwheeled backwards from the next sequence of interconnected slices and stabs, rebounding off the hull of the crashed shuttle and snapping her attacker's neck as she twirled over the female Hapan, grabbing her attacker's Dauntless Blade as she landed and retrieving the saber bayonet from the now useless rifle.

Her directives were simple. Assist Alliance in whatever way necessary...

And gut every last Hapan that tried to stop her.

Dulcinea moved to get off the streets for the moment to reorient herself as she saw more combat shuttles closing in on her location...


Tag: Open

 

[Erran Lanith]

As they swept into the entrance of the mine, it appeared abandoned. There were no overhead lights or signs of recent travel from the entrance. Either the intel they had received was incorrect, or the Veil members used another entrance.

"Good copy, Aiden, we'll keep them busy. Keep me updated," Erran replied. His squad was scanning the channels and had overheard the conversation; everyone would be on the same page.

Errans unit continued to maneuver deeper into the mine. There were still no signs of contact, and they had not yet seen anything that would lead them to believe anyone inhabited this mine.

That was until a bright blue lance of energy swept down one of the corridors and impacted one of Erran's squad, throwing them unceremoniously onto the ground.

"Contact front! Covering fire, Yalnur is down!" The squad flowed into whatever cover they could find as more blue lances of energy were fired toward them.

Red and green blaster bolts lit the dark and cascaded down the mining corridor to pin down whoever had fired at them. "Get me a detonator down that hallway. What's Yal's status?" Erran barked at his squad, sending more rounds down the corridor.

Explosions ripped through the mine as his men obeyed his orders. "Medical readout is saying significant burns, heavy internal trauma," his medic replied, "He's out. I've hit him with stems and bacta; he needs evac ASAP."

"Aiden," Erran spoke into his comm, "We have contact about 700 meters into the main mining entrance. I have one wounded. We're continuing forward."

"Get him on a gravity stretcher and drag him behind us. I want flashbangs and detonators down that hallway, then we move. Send it!"

Bright flashes of light and more explosions ripped down the corridor as Erran and his unit bounded forward from cover and engaged whatever Veil members they could find. While not as highly trained as the GADF Marines, they were an entrenched enemy in a favorable position. Erran and his men needed speed and violence of action to make it through.

IN ORBIT​

"Get me those ground troops back on comms immediately," Commander Tamil shot at the communications officer. "And what's the status of that Hapan ship? Have they responded to our hails?"

"Negative sir," a bridge officer replied.

"Sir! The Hapan ship has launched fighters!"

"Are they in a position to cover their dropships heading to the surface?" Tamil asked.

"Negative sir. They're forming up on the Nova Cruiser."

"What?" Tamil murmured to himself as he peered out the bridge view ports toward the Nova Cruiser. He couldn't see it at this range, but it was out there. A deadly, sleek craft plying the dark ocean of space and heading in their direction.

Something felt....wrong. Tamil couldn't explain it, but the Hapan's actions at this point didn't make sense. They wouldn't respond to comms; they sent dropships towards the surface, and now a fighter screen is in position to cover the Nova Cruiser. But from what?

Every instinct in Tamil screamed danger, but he had no intel to go on and no comms to the surface. And danger from what? Their allies? He couldn't bring himself to believe the Hapes Consortium would do anything other than keep him and his ship at distance so they could retrieve the Veil Leadership on the surface.

"Sir!" another bridge officer yelled.

"What is it?"

"Sir, comms are down because we're being jammed. All channel jamming is being detected, originating from the Nova Cruiser."

"Hail them again. Tight beam, unencrypted, put as much power into the communications systems as you can. Make them answer," Tamil spat. What were they doing? Jamming him so he couldn't coordinate with his own ground forces? Launching fighters as a show of force? This made no sense.

"Sir, I uh...I'm getting energy spikes from the Nova Cruiser," the weapons officer spoke to Tamil. "It's coming from," the man trailed off as he peered intently at his screen, "By the force, sir, it's coming from their weapons system; they have us targeted!"

"Forward deflectors at max-" Tamil started before the entire ship rocked and shrieked from an intense barrage of Agrocite cannons and heavy ion cannon fire, sending flames and fire across the hull of the Defender Class Assault Carrier.

Aiden Rennek​

 

[Pinda Solthar]

BROADCASTING LIVE...

The screen cuts back to the 360° Around the Galaxy studio. The tension in the air is undeniable. Pinda Solthar, usually composed and commanding, looks as if she's just come out of an emergency briefing. The holographic backdrop behind her is alive with a chaotic mix of real-time reports: the Hapan Royal Palace on lockdown, flashing red emergency alerts, footage of skirmishes between Jedi and Hapan guards

Pinda's voice is sharp, but the weight of what she is about to say is evident.

"Good evening, beings across the galaxy. I wish I could say we were bringing you better news with this update, but instead, we are witnessing what can only be described as a total diplomatic catastrophe.

What was meant to be a last-ditch effort for peace has collapsed into unimaginable violence. The Galactic Alliance delegation sent to Hapes in an attempt to de-escalate the crisis has not only failed—it has triggered an even greater one.

We are receiving reports that Queen Mother Kha'la Daaray, in what appears to be an unchecked descent into fury and vengeance, has trapped the delegation inside the Fountain Palace, effectively taking them hostage? However, what followed was nothing short of sounding like pure chaos.

An EMP detonation...one senator shot in the head at point-blank range, another stabbed.

Reports of delegates surrendering and have reportedly submitted to becoming political prisoners. The Jedi, who had accompanied the delegation, clashing violently with Hapan Royal Guards in an attempt to defend those under attack. Meanwhile, outside the palace walls, chaos continues."

The holographic screen zooms in on live footage from Hapan space. Hapan warships are now in full battle formation. Reports indicate that Hapan forces have been ordered to fire upon any Jedi or Galactic Alliance forces that continue to intervene.

Leaning forward, Pinda's tone sharpens, "And now, in a move that will send shockwaves across the galaxy, Queen Mother Kha'la Daaray has issued a decree:

The Galactic Alliance and the Jedi Order are no longer welcome in the Hapes Cluster. Any interference will be met with force. Any that do not comply will be removed—by whatever means necessary.

Hapes has made its position clear: they will take back control on their own, and they will not allow outsiders to dictate their future ever again."

The camera shifts to the panel of commentators, each of whom reflects the gravity of the moment. The conversation is quick, almost frantic, as they attempt to make sense of the situation.

Turning to Camron Rykkar first, her voice urgent, "Camron, let's not sugarcoat this—this is a disaster. The diplomatic angle here has devolved into chaos. The Queen Mother's statement....What does this mean for the legitimacy of the Alliance as a governing body?"

Camron's face is tense, his hands clasped tightly together as he speaks. "Pinda, this is an unmitigated failure on every level. The Galactic Alliance's ability to manage crises like this... is now on full display for the galaxy to judge.

The Alliance was supposed to bring peace. Instead, they sent a delegation that is now being held against their will, their Jedi representatives were forced into direct combat, and now one of their own member states has effectively severed ties in the most violent way possible.

This isn't just about Hapes anymore—this speaks to the broader question of how effective the Galactic Alliance really is in a crisis like this. If they can't de-escalate a crisis within their own borders, what message does that send to the rest of the galaxy? That's a question many will be seeking an answer too, especially their allies."

Pinda nods grimly before turning to Dr. Elara Veylin, "Dr. Veylin, the Queen Mother's actions—holding senators hostage, a senator being shot, expelling the Jedi—this is a fundamental shift in Hapan foreign policy. What does this mean for the monarchy's future?"

Dr. Elara Veylin's expression is troubled, her voice barely above a whisper at first, "Pinda, this… this is something we have never seen before in the time of this iteration of the Alliance...nor with the Consortium. The Hapan monarchy has always been fiercely independent, but it has also relied on careful political maneuvering to maintain its power.

This? This is not careful. This is reckless.

By making enemies of the Galactic Alliance and the Jedi in such a public and brutal fashion, the Queen Mother is not just alienating herself—she is making Hapes a pariah. The Cluster has thrived for centuries by balancing its isolationism with strategic alliances. That balance is now shattered."

The Kel-Dor nods before turning to Colonel Tyrek Marn.

"Colonel, let's talk about the immediate military consequences. The Queen Mother has essentially declared open hostility against the Alliance. What happens next?"

Colonel Tyrek Marn's jaw tightens, his military experience coming through in his measured words, "What happens next, Pinda, depends entirely on how the Galactic Alliance responds.

Do they accept Hapes' expulsion and retreat, knowing that it will make them look bad on the galactic stage? Or do they attempt to reassert their authority, which would likely mean open conflict?

And then there's the question of the Jedi. The Queen Mother has effectively criminalized their presence in Hapan space. If Jedi are captured in future conflicts, will they be treated as prisoners of war? As criminals? Or worse?

There's even been reports on the ground of Jedi fighting Jedi...does this mean internal dissension?

One thing is certain: this is not over."

The screen transitions to live footage of reactions from across the galaxy. In the Core Worlds, political analysts debate the Galactic Alliance's credibility. In the Outer Rim, independent systems question their own allegiance to the GA. The holofeed displays reactions from neutral systems, where leaders express concern over the precedent being set.

"Nyen, let's talk about how the rest of the galaxy is watching this unfold. What does this crisis mean for other systems within the GA charter?"

Nyen Trevalis' voice is clipped, her datapad buzzing with real-time updates. "This is bigger than just Hapes, Pinda. This moment could redefine the Galactic Alliance as we know it.

For neutral systems, this is a stark warning—if they ever find themselves at odds with the GA, can they expect diplomacy, or will they suffer the same fate as Hapes? For member worlds, this raises serious concerns about the Alliance's ability to protect them. If the Alliance couldn't prevent a crisis of this scale within its own ranks, then what faith can smaller systems have in its leadership?"

Segment: The Galaxy Responds...

Pinda nods solemnly, "Well the galaxy has certainly responded...Let's hone our discussion in on the broader galactic implications, because we are now receiving word that the Royal Naboo Republic has issued a formal travel advisory for the entire Hapes Cluster. Effective immediately, Queen Kalantha has warned Republic citizens against traveling to Hapan space, citing the active presence of aggressive Hapan military forces and Crimson Veil insurgents."

The hologram shifts to an official statement from the Royal Naboo Republic's Department of Foreign Affairs, displayed in stark white text against a deep blue seal of the Republic.

Pinda's voice is steady, but with a growing edge of concern.

"According to the Royal Naboo Republic's Department of Foreign Affairs, Republic citizens in the Hapes Cluster may face harassment or detention by Hapan security officials, arbitrary enforcement of local laws, limited travel to and from Hapes, and the possibility of terrorism. The Republic Embassy has warned that it has 'limited ability to assist Republic citizens in Ta'a Chume'Dan' due to the Queen Mother's decree and the overall collapse of diplomatic communication.

The most alarming part of this advisory, however, is this: the Department of Foreign Affairs has determined that there is a continued risk of wrongful detention of Republic nationals by Hapan authorities. The official recommendation is for all Republic citizens residing or traveling in the Hapes Cluster to leave immediately."

The hologram transitions to a breaking report from The Herald, the Royal Naboo Republic's premier source of news from the Southern Systems. The image flickers slightly—encrypted transmission data, an intercepted message. A red symbol flashes across the screen: the emblem of the Crimson Veil.

The studio is quiet as Pinda reads the intercepted message aloud. The chilling words echo across the newsroom.

"The Herald has intercepted a transmission from the extremist group Crimson Veil. We pulled some alarming tidbits from the overall message that stood out, it's unmistakably clear. They characterize themselves not as terrorists, but as, and I quote:

'Doctors working to treat a cancer that is killing Hapes.'

And in a warning to all who are watching, they state:

'Pay close attention to the actions of the Queen Mother in the coming days…'"

The studio is silent for a moment. The weight of those words lingers in the air.

Pinda looks to Camron Rykkar, with a concerned expression, "Camron, let's talk about this intercepted message. This is the first time we've heard directly from the Crimson Veil since the diplomatic collapse. What does this tell us?"

Camron Rykkar's voice is measured but urgent, his political instincts firing on all cylinders. "Pinda, this is a clear escalation. The Crimson Veil is no longer just operating as a shadowy insurgent group—they are framing themselves as the only cure for a failing monarchy.

That phrasing—'doctors treating a cancer'—that is deliberate. That is not just rhetoric; that is a call to action. They want the galaxy to view them as saviors, not extremists. They are telling people: 'We are the only ones left who can remove Kha'la Daaray from power.'

This means one of two things:

1. They have a major operation planned—something big enough to shift the balance of power...perhaps we're seeing this play out now.
2. They are counting on the Queen Mother to destroy herself. And from what we've seen today, she may have done just that."

Pinda nods before turning back to Colonel Tyrek Marn, "Colonel, this entire situation is a PR disaster for everybody involved—the Monarchy, the Jedi, and the Galactic Alliance. If you're an independent system watching this unfold, what conclusions do you draw? How does this look?"

Colonel Tyrek Marn's voice is heavy, his words chosen carefully, "Pinda, if I'm a leader of a neutral world, I'm thinking two things:

1. The Galactic Alliance cannot manage its own crises. If I'm considering joining the Alliance, I now have serious doubts about whether they can actually protect their member states—or whether I'll end up in the same position as Hapes.
2. The Jedi are not as impartial as they claim to be. Their involvement in the military operations—and their subsequent entanglement in the violence at the Royal Palace—has compromised their position. Some will still see them as peacekeepers. Others? As enforcers of the Alliance's will? We may start to see this type of rhetoric pop up.

And let's not forget the Hapan people themselves. There's no turning back now. With the Queen Mother's crackdown and the Crimson Veil's call to arms, this isn't just about sovereignty anymore. This is about who survives."

A red warning banner indicating that the Corporate Interests Guild is considering an embargo. The ticker at the bottom scrolls with the latest updates: "BREAKING: Corporate Interests Guild Considering Embargos..."

Pinda turns to Nyen Trevalis, the economic analyst, her expression tightens as she reads incoming reports.

"Nyen, we are now hearing from sources within the Corporate Interests Guild—about the potential for embargoes, and possibly even blockades against the Alliance...What does this mean for the already spiraling situation?"

Nyen Trevalis's tone shifts from concern to outright alarm, "Pinda, this is what true economic warfare looks like. If the Corporate Interests Guild—which represents some of the largest financial and trade conglomerates in the galaxy—moves forward with an embargo or blockade, it will ca cripple the economy of many core worlds.

We have to remember, Hapes is already suffering under internal instability. Trade has been collapsing due to the Queen Mother's aggressive campaign and the Crimson Veil insurgency. If the Corporate Guild enforces a blockade, on other Alliance worlds, it could rupture many economic lifelines."

Pinda nodded gravely, shifting her focus to Colonel Tyrek Marn, "Colonel, you've seen how economic blockades and embargoes impact warzones. If the Corporate Interests Guild follows through with this, what are the immediate consequences?"

Colonel Tyrek Marn's jaw is set, his voice measured but grave. "Pinda, this would be devastating. An embargo means that critical supplies—medical goods, food, technology, and industrial parts—would possibly no longer flow through Alliance space. And with this situation in mind, we know the Hapan economy is heavily dependent on trade with outside markets like many other worlds, despite its historical isolationist tendencies.

A full blockade would be even worse. We're talking about the potential of corporate-funded privateer fleets blocking access to key hyperspace routes in and out of Alliance space. That means starvation and supply shortages, among many other things. And this could reflect badly on the Alliance for the failure to detain the problem."

Pinda chimes in "And let's not forget—if the Corporate Guild is willing to consider a blockade, that means they may no longer see the Alliance as a viable investment. Camron, what does that signal to the rest of the galaxy?"

Camron Rykkar sits back, exhaling sharply before speaking. "Pinda, it can signal a lot of things. First, this signals that Hapes is now considered a failed state by the most powerful corporate entities in the galaxy, and they could be looking at many systems in the Alliance the same way. That alone is enough to send shudders through the galactic economy.

And second—this sends a message to other struggling systems. If a system like Hapes, which was once a powerhouse of wealth and exclusivity, can fall so hard and so fast, then what does that mean for other GA member states on the brink of collapse, and those that aren't? If I'm a senator in a vulnerable system, I am terrified right now."

Turning back to the camera, her expression unreadable but heavy with meaning. "And the the Neimoidian Government, via a statement from Monaray Dod , condemned the Hapes Consortium and immediately called for other member-worlds to cease diplomacy and trade relations with this rogue state until peace is restored. So we're seeing the topic of trade come up more and more."

"So let's summarize. Diplomacy has failed. The Queen Mother has declared war on outsiders, the Crimson Veil is mobilizing and issuing veiled threats, the Galactic Alliance has lost credibility here in handling the crisis, Naboo and many other systems are watching and responding, and now, the Corporate Interests Guild—may impose an embargo or blockade that could sends shudders through other Alliance worlds.

This is no longer just a crisis.

This is a defining moment in galactic history.

Who will emerge from it intact? And who will be buried beneath the weight of their own failures?

Well be continuing to follow this story to bring you live updates, expert analysis, and voices from the front lines. This is 360° Around the Galaxy, where we go beyond the headlines to uncover the truths shaping our galaxy."

The broadcast fades to black, the weight of the crisis hanging over every word.

 

[Tyrus Vastor]

" What the-"

The surge of energy rolled through the city in a tidal wave, a sudden but undeniable pressure in the Force. All over Hapan, the Jedi had gone into battle meditation, their collective will thrusting against the fraying seams of the conflict in an effort to stitch order into chaos.

He could feel it seep into his bones, an undercurrent of serenity imposed upon the storm of emotions surrounding him. He snorted, rolling his shoulders against the sensation and scoffed. A misguided effort that would give a brief respite. These people on Hapan had committed themselves to violence; no amount of Force as reinforcement was going to get Hapan back from that. This was a balm on an open wound-numbing the pain but never addressing the rot festering beneath. Battle meditation could only influence or temper behavior for so long before exhaustion followed. It was not the permanent solution!

But what was?

He shook his head. Another misstep of the New Jedi Order failing to see things as they actually were. They gave a name to themselves: peacekeepers, but peace had long since fled this world. The Order really think they could soften war's bite with willpower alone, as if conflict could be tamed like a wild beast?

Even so where was this in the core worlds? This effort and collective focus.

Absent. Thats where it was. Absent and redirected to-

Tyrus's mind wandered to his last class. Padawans aren't soldiers. Those were the words Master Kahlil Noble had used. Not soldiers. The words seemed hollow now as he watched as the people of Hapan moved through the city, shouting their anger, running in fear. How many Jedi were here from the Order as well? How many were exposed to this?!

Explosions shook the skyline, and smoke billowed from the higher levels, heavy with the acrid stench of burning durasteel. The fires licked across buildings, the embers hot as the eyes of hungry predators. Gunships tore through the skies like raptors, vomiting streams of crimson light down into the streets below.

This wasn't some political falling out, a breaking down of diplomacy. This was a war! And war was nature at its most base.

And the Jedi had no place here...

Then, the hiss of a blaster cut through his thoughts.

The first bolt slammed into his shoulder, almost knocking him off his feet, before Tyrus had barely time to turn. His arm was a mass of pain, the heat of the shot burning through the woven armor of his trench coat. A second shot ripped through, this time finding him ready. In a flash, a flick of his wrist brought the lightsaber into life as violent violet energy. The next two shrieking bolts screamed on to strike the plasma blade and then were cast aside, rebounding against the alley walls. He moved, sharpened instincts from surviving a score or more of such ambushes in worse places. He was sideways, vaulting and then rolling into darkness in the narrow alleyway, his back against cold stone.

 

[Everest Vale]

An undeniable sense of tension swept across Coruscant, from the Senate Chambers to undercity bars to the Jedi Temple itself. Locked within the dim room of her temple dorm, Everest sat clenched into a ball, arms tight around her knees, as damp, wide eyes watched her datapad with intensity, a sense of horror and panic ever deepening into her. The blue glow of the screen spilled against her pale skin, refracting against the tears that streamed down her face, as Pinda Solthar 's report continued to fill the room through the tinny speakers of the tablet.

She should be there. She should have gone to help.

She couldn't help but think of all those poor innocents suffering needlessly. The children...

She should be there.

"There's even been reports on the ground of Jedi fighting Jedi." The words cut into her and she dug her nails into her legs anxiously, head buried against her knees.

She should be there.

Thoughts turned to everyone who had gone to Hapes. Master Noble and her husband and daughter. Knight Lidos. Sweet Shan...

Please be okay.

The words cycled endlessly in her mind as her heart broke again and again at the thought of so many lives lost, and how helpless and useless she was just sitting on the safety of her bed away from it all. She bit into her lip hard in a desperate attempt to stop its uncontrollable quivering.

Please be okay.

The light of the datapad blurred behind her tears.

 

[Dashiell NPC]

CALL FOR AID

​

Assisted by the Nuns, progress was now being made quicker. It was no easy feat to complete evacuate a children's hospital. Cyrus was thankful they had started last night, moving those less critical by the less-than-ideal way of cargo vessels. It had been the only thing in the area but it had done the job, transporting them to Gallinore, known for its high technology and stability due to the massive amount of corporations and universities on the planet.

It would have the resources desperately needed to either get the children reunited with their parents or place them in temporary homes, possibly run by the Nuns of G'aav'aar'oon.

Yawning, Cyrus ran a hand over his face, over the gray stubble that had formed. He was always one of the last to leave, packing up with the security detail that they had nabbed once the bombing had started. Humanitarian he was, but Doctor Waymaire wouldn't let the children or Nuns under his watch get injured, hence the need for eyes to watch his back.

Boarding the last transport, he looked out as the ramp slowly shut. Something told him he would be back.

EXIT

 

[Persephone Callas]

​

S E L A B
Hapes Consortium

-

The amber glow of the Selabian evening cast long, slanted shadows across the polished marble of Duch'a Persephone Callas' private office. The intricate latticework of silver trimmed transparisteel allowed the distant gardens and city below to shimmer like a bed of captive stars, but her attention remained fixed on the Holo projection before her.

The flickering blue tinted image displayed the latest in the escalating political turmoil between the Hapes Consortium and the Alliance -- an affront, truly. The so called Equality act, a heavy handed decree meant to force their refined civilization into compliance with the crude, pedestrian ideals of the wider galaxy. The Queen Mother's compliance had been disappointing, but not entirely unexpected. The throne had grown increasingly... soft. And softness had no place in Hapan politics.

The Queen had found out firsthand with the blood spilled at her own brother's wedding.

Pity.

Persephone exhaled slowly, one manicured finger tapping against the polished surface of her desk in rhythmic contemplation. The Crimson Veil was a growing threat, true, but more concerning was the implication that foreign powers believed they had the right to dictate the internal order of the Consortium. Had the Alliance truly learned nothing of history? Did they not realize what happened to those who sought to impose their will upon the Hapan people?

A slight smile, almost imperceptible, touched the edges of her lips. A millennium of culture was not to be undone within a single year, and certainly not by mere legislation.

A sharp snap of her fingers.

Within moments, one of her attendants, a pale haired young woman with disciplined poise, approached and inclined her head. "Duch'a?"

"Heighten security," Persephone instructed smoothly, her voice a gentle melody of command wrapped in silk. "Ensure all trackers are being carefully monitored. We will not have such undesirable acts occur on Selab."

The attendant did not hesitate. "Yes, Duch'a."

Persephone nodded in satisfaction. Years ago, she had personally overseen the implementation of a sophisticated biometric monitoring system under the guise of a public health initiative. A necessary safeguard, initially developed to protect against the spread of the Black Hive Virus, but how fortunate that it had provided an additional means of... maintaining order.

Her gaze flicked back to the Holo. The detention of the Alliance delegates would send a message. The expulsion of their envoys, a statement. But how the other Duch'as within the Consortium would respond…

"I wonder…" she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

She was not a woman given to reckless action. No she ensured that every move calculated, every piece positioned before the game was played. The Queen Mother may have surrendered her power to sentimentality, but Persephone would not.

Not when the Consortium's future depended on it.

"Curious, indeed."

 

[Delila Castillon]

"Zhea Nox. Gentleman with the medpac over there is Markram. We can use all the help you can give - especially those ships! Most of these people have been stabilised already, if one of you can get them to your ships so long for proper care. Markram can show you who. I need to get to the totaled transport. I still sense some people trapped in there, if one of you can help me there." Zhea spoke to both of them as she finished healing the healable wounds on the child and getting to her feet.​

Delila arced an eyebrow and mentally sighed. Another Jedi who thought they were in charge of the universe. Granted this was a stressful situation given the conflict. Given the fact there was already a refugee crisis and now they were looking down another crisis within the Hapan Cluster. She wasn't sure how this one would play out - flash in the pan or prolonged conflict?

"I'll start loading the wounded. See you around Starchaser."

They were going to separate at this point. By now, they had done enough jobs together to where contact information had been exchanged and there was a rapport between them. No doubt there would be some more opportunities for potential work in the area. Delivering refugee relief or perhaps the much more profitable task of smuggling guns behind 'enemy' lines. Having no stake in the fight at all, Delila would be personally happy to play both sides.

She needed a new ship after all.

Jared Starchaser Zhea Nox Echo Athoth

E X I T​

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Jedi Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Lightsabers

The battle was turning into a storm of blaster fire, explosions, and the clash of willpower. Valery's body ached, the burn of exertion weighing heavy in her limbs, but she refused to yield. Through their Dyad, she could feel Kahlil Noble reaching out, drawing on her strength to sustain the battle meditation that was keeping the Jedi and their allies together. Every ounce of focus, every breath, was dedicated to maintaining that fragile balance.

Her leg throbbed where she had been hit, and her muscles screamed for respite, but she gritted her teeth and pushed through the pain. They couldn't fall now. Not here. Not when so many lives still hung in the balance.

Her fiery gaze flicked toward Jack, catching the sheer determination radiating from him. He was more than holding his own — he was driving forward, slicing through the ranks of traitorous Hapans like a force of nature. His movements were precise, fueled by an unshakable resolve, and when he unleashed a devastating Force Wave that sent bodies flying, Valery felt a flicker of gratitude.

But the moment of admiration was short-lived. A warning flared through the Force, and she barely had time to react before a missile streaked toward them, its payload promising devastation.

Jack moved first, catching the projectile mid-air, but even with his strength, she could see the strain rippling through his body. The missile wavered, fighting against his hold, but then Zaiya stepped in. The young Padawan's energy flowed outward, weaving with theirs, a bright and steady pulse that bolstered Jack's grip and steadied Valery's fraying connection to the Force.

For a fleeting moment, Valery exhaled, drawing on the encouragement Zaiya provided.

But the battle wasn't over.

Valery's gaze snapped toward the civilians still caught in the chaos. Some cowered behind fallen debris, others ran aimlessly, too panicked to find shelter. If they remained in the crossfire, they wouldn't last much longer.

Her mind raced. The GA military had been deployed — somewhere in the city, they were holding ground. That's where they needed to be.

Valery turned to Jack and Zaiya, her voice cutting through the chaos with unwavering command. "We're falling back. We need to get the civilians out of here and regroup with the Alliance military. We can't protect them like this — not in the open."

She shifted her stance, reaching out with the Force to form a protective barrier around a cluster of civilians caught behind a toppled speeder. The shimmering field absorbed a flurry of incoming blaster bolts before she gestured toward a side street. "That way! We move fast and we move smart—no unnecessary fights. Just get them to safety!"

Her blade flashed, intercepting another volley of blaster fire, as she took a step forward, positioning herself between the retreating civilians and the advancing Hapans. If these soldiers wanted to stop them, they would have to go through her and her fellow Jedi.

Jack Wright Zaiya Ceti ​

 

[Jack Wright]

(Tags: Valery Noble , Zaiya Ceti )

With the pair's combined power, they thrusted the projectile away to the air, the explosion harming no one and left the slightest of tremors, from where they stood. Jack exerted, wiping a brow and passed a thankful smile to Zaiya, cupping her shoulder with a confident squeeze.

When the Grandmaster gave her word, his head perked up, Force prickling in anticipation, "You got it!" Assuring the Padawan, he released, gathered up enough stamina, then rushed for the onslaught threatenint to occur, blue and violet lightsabers ignited in the wind.

Twirling midair like a tornado, Jack tossed his second saber in a concentrated throw, swung in a vertical arc that buzzed through Hapes' cruel winds, inching just enough for the shooters to stagger back, caught off-guard from the weapon whizzing by, sparing Valery's shield some stress. With his right lightsaber, Jack pointed for the direction they needed to, just off east.

"Go!" The citizens took their chance, rushing the way right of the Grandmaster's shield while Jack sped forwards, recalling his left lightsaber and jumped into the fray of enemies, forcing them to duck for cover and scatter. But as she said.

No heroics.

So tossing a vehicle overhead to close by the enemies, the result ignition of its engine leaving a significant explosion, further disorienting the enemies. Jack flanked the civillians' left as they ran, twin sabers spinning defensively to maintain his own barrier while the other two Jedi did their role.

 

[Diogo Talon]

Eloise Dinn + Corvin Strix
Song to the Siren

“I’m fine. Help get these people out!”

<"I'm coming!">

Diogo assumed Eloise and the blindfold guy had the situation under control, so he was tending to the wounded and trying to secure them safe passage before Consortium reinforcements arrived. Judging by the urgency of her voice, he'd miscalculated.

The man blinked at Dio. He had been instructed not to reveal the location of any safehouses or bases to anyone outside the CV. It was too risky. On the other hand, Jedi hostages were always a plus. “That way,” he said, pointing down the street. “Yellow brick building on the right.”

"Hold that thought," Diogo said quickly, turning back to the commercial office with renewed vigor. "Get her to the safe house and we'll meet you there," he insisted, gesturing to Charlotte's body. But as the boy lurched toward the burning building he heard a blaster shot from behind, then felt a hot, sharp sting between his shoulder blades. He lost consciousness before he even hit the floor.

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

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

Zaiya barely had time to nod at Valery's command before searing pain lanced through her arm. A strangled gasp tore from her throat as a blaster bolt struck true, the scent of scorched fabric and flesh filling her nose. Her skin flashed silver, and she gave a harsh gasp as the agony flooded her senses. Domxite gave a trill of concern, their voice asking if she was okay.

“I’m fine,” she murmured, but got to her feet. Had to be. Stumbling but refusing to fall, she gritted her teeth and forced herself upright. No time. No distractions. She thrust her free hand forward, sending a telekinetic wave crashing into the Hapan soldiers, pushing them back just enough to buy time.

No unnecessary fights. Just get the civilians to safety, those words rang through her head, a mantra to keep her vision and focus clear despite the pain.

Fumbling with her wrist holo, she activated the map. A blinking green icon flared to life there! The nearest Alliance outpost.

"Follow me!" she shouted, cradling her injured arm to her chest as she turned toward the civilians. They hesitated for a fraction of a second, then surged after her as Valery and Jack stepped up to hold the line.

Zaiya didn't dare look back. She just had to push forward a little longer, and then maybe she could worry about the pain and healing any others who might be injured.