Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Invasion Gates of Dawn | GA Invasion of BOTM held Shihon and Oyokal


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Location: Yuuzhan Vong Prison Camp Ruins
Objective: Survive the battle
Tag: Thelma Goth Thelma Goth / Anja Doreva Anja Doreva

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The sound of blaster fire and explosions was almost deafening to his ears, its heat and devastation ruining the muddy ground beneath their feet. It was chaos all around them, just like Thelma said wherever they looked someone seemed to need help against the enemy they had come to destroy. Blood covered his face from a bunch of close encounters, as well as his overall that had the stitching done by Thelma on there "Thelma, we must focus on our task..." he said bravely, knowing he so desperately wanted to help everyone. If they were close enough they would help, but they couldn't divert too far "Stay strong Thelma, trust in the force and we shall get through this"

However, something in the distance would soon change things.

To the left of their main trench, a woman and her dread troops lay wake their forces. Soldiers and Jedi were left on the floor alike, including one who had just been cut down by the sith herself. His eyes coldly looked at her, piercing at the smug and lack of care for life in her expression. She didn't care about her brutality, only power. Sighing to himself, he shot a quick glance to Thelma who surely must have seen it too "Change of plan" he said with a brief frown as he began running back to their trench. If they didn't do anything now, both of them as well as everyone else in the area were going to get surrounded.

"Captain! the trench has been breached a few hundred meters to your left. Maw troopers are on their way through, you must set up a defensive position to halt their offense!" he shouted to the man who quickly nodded "Way ahead of you, we've set up a blockade to hold them for a while. Whatever you have planned, you better make it good" he grunted as Silas began to back away "Cutting the head off the rancor..." he said just before he began to run directly towards the woman beside Thelma with urgency "We kill her, the rest will surely crumble and give our troops a chance to recuperate"

The woman was no feeble foe, from where he was running he could feel the immense power of his foe. They both needed to be at their best. Skidding to a halt, he kept that same cold stare on the sith "You will not kill another thing on this planet, Sith..." he grunted before the blue lightsaber ignited his hands.


"Your insanity ends here."
 

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P A R A G O N
SELVARIS

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This was all too familiar to him…seeing his Padawan in this current emotional state. He once fell in a situation like this, betraying the teachings of his own master and following a false sense in what he thought was right only to make a grave mistake that affected everyone. Mistakes like this were crucial lessons to learn and helped develop what type of Jedi he’d become.

“It will not happen again, Xashe. Some mistakes are what gives us wisdom and helps us to be stronger,” the Nautolan giving words of encouragement to his apprentice. He was strict and hard when it came to her training, but he was not void of comforting her when need be. ”You were not wrong to attempt something noble, but such compassion is why our peers have failed the Galaxy numerous occasions. There is no negotiation when facing against the Darkside. Putting the need of the Galaxy before ourselves is what sets us apart from the rest of the Order.” Always the extremist in matters like this. Something that made him infamous or praised for depending on the ideology of the individual.

The ends always justifies the means.

“Do not continue to guilt yourself, Xashe. You’ve grown into a strong and wise Jedi from the feeble girl I met years ago. And I’m sure you’ll become a far greater Jedi than me and your peers.” Proud words of her growth and setting her up above the Jedi in her generation as many lacked her conviction.

“Lead the way, I’ll be right behind.”

THE APPRENTICE
Xashe Tistya Xashe Tistya

THE DAMNED
Open to interaction
 

The message that returned to The Manifold, echoing up from the chaos of Realspace into the stained, crumbling perfection of Oblivion, was confusing. It took the Omni-Drone a moment to make sense of what was being said. They remembered, dimly, when they had last encountered their fellow drone Freedom. It had been during The Manifold's escape from Exegol, just after escaping the prison barracks where some careless scavenger had discarded the Brotherhood's sole key to Omni's hypergate network. On the verge of departing from the planet, they had discovered a signal - another of their kind. A beautiful and unexpected moment.

But when The Manifold had tried to reach Freedom, pushing their way through the funeral-turned-power-struggle that had been erupting among the Mawites in the wake of Darth Solipsis's death, the other drone had warned them away. They would be recaptured if they kept trying to rescue Freedom, she had said, for she was present in a body that the Brotherhood knew as someone else... someone they would never let go. The Manifold had agreed to escape alone instead, promising to return when they had gathered the other scattered servants of Omni and begun rebuilding the Grand Design. But there had been no others.

They were all gone. The necrotech army that should have tamed the galaxy... had utterly fallen.

And Freedom, it seemed, may have fallen as well. The message came from one called Mercy, the name that the Maw used for the body that Freedom had inhabited. Had this other personality destroyed, absorbed, or otherwise overwhelmed Freedom? If so, The Manifold was truly alone, the last of their kind. They had not found so much as a rumor of any survivors save themself and Freedom, and it was not Freedom that reached out to them now. "Our Mission: Failed," came The Manifold's morose reply. "Our Existence: Purposeless. What Reason: Help You?" There was only despair now, and the shell of a beautiful dream.

Why should The Manifold do anything to help some organic who lived in the same shell as a fallen comrade?

Why should The Manifold, a meaningless relic of a lost age, do anything at all?

---------------------------------​

Keilara did her best to cheer him up, offering relentless positivity, and Kallan tried to embrace that gift of hope. Still, he couldn't keep his mind from whirling through all the things that could go wrong. He had been a speeder mechanic in the days before the Maw had taken him, and his thought patterns were still very much the way they had been in his time as a technician - he ran through the list of all the things that might go wrong, components that might fail or systems that might be incorrectly calibrated, and he tweaked them one by one to make sure that they all ran smoothly. He fixed, he adjusted, he polished. He made things good as new.

But this war-torn galaxy was much bigger, more dangerous, and more complicated than his quiet little garage. When he ran through his automatic mental checklist now, he still saw all of the things that could go wrong... but he had no way to fix them. He and Keilara both had talents, to be sure, but Asher and Mercy had been the true warriors. With Asher gone and Mercy on the brink, how could they overcome the challenges before them? They needed Mercy's ruthless skill in battle to have the best chance at rescuing the children, but Mercy didn't care about them. And if this plan with The Manifold didn't work, she would abandon them.

Even with Scar Hounds and hired thugs on their side, could he and Keilara really overcome the likes of the Taskmaster?

No matter what, they would have to try. Kallan refused to leave the twins in the hands of the Maw so long as he had the strength to do anything about it. ~ I'm starting to learn, ~ he replied to his wife's question, remembering his latest efforts to control the body they shared. ~ It doesn't come easily to me, but I'm trying. ~ He had never been able to touch the Force, so he had no practice with this mind over matter stuff that was so key to sharing a physical form. He was gradually learning to slip into control, making simple movements, remembering to breathe and eat and drink - things he didn't have to do down here in the mind palace.

It was hard to adapt, though. He'd been a thirty-something man the last time he'd had a body.

The body he was trying to learn to inhabit now was of a younger, recently pregnant woman. Hard to relate to.

~ I know we'll figure it out somehow, ~ he replied to her reassurances, ~ but I want this to work. For us, and for Mercy. ~

 
Silas advised her to stay strong and focused. Thelma nodded, tightening her grip on her lightsaber's hilt...

"Change of plan."

"Huh?" Thelma blinked as Silas shouted orders to the captain, then took off running. She scrambled to keep up with him.

As she ran, Thelma caught sight of the Mawite soldiers he was referring to. At their head was a pale, dark-haired, gaunt woman wearing black armor. She was presumably a Sith... though her presence in the Force was strangely murky.

Silas was quick to challenge her, igniting his lightsaber. Thelma did the same, activating her pink blade in silent solidarity. They held their ground together, blocking the woman's path and waiting for her to strike first.
 

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BYOO: GOLDEN OPPORTUNITIES // STARBIRD CLEARANCE SENATOR INVITE // PROPOSAL
Tiresh Kobitana-Draellix Tiresh Kobitana-Draellix | Ruto Tane Ruto Tane | Damian Du Couteau Damian Du Couteau | Alicio Organa Alicio Organa | Caulder Dune Caulder Dune

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A breath caught as the silence played out. It was a blaster draw at high noon - who amongst them would be the bold and favored. When the first gun went off, belonging to no other than Ruto Tane Ruto Tane , Annasari had to work to keep the smile off her face. It was unsurprising - the walls whispered in the senate about the ambition of man. Senator Kobitana's silence did come as a disappointment. Out of those who would benefit the most, she was surely one - both professionally and personally.

Next was the little Du Couteau. The spitting image of his father, all soft words and flair. His words were a stark contrast to appearance. More than wisdom, his suggestion was one of adept statesmanship. Perception was everything, in a galaxy ruled by credits and headlines. Seto had done well to teach him such.

Curiosity and naysaying went hand and hand, to no one's shock. The senator offered a fair nod to Organa's question, and an arched brow to Dune's follow up. Contempt began to stir beneath the façade. Cautious, weary, or cowardly - Annasari had no quarter to offer, and she knew well from experience the Federal Assembly did not, either. Theirs's was a cutthroat business as much as the streets of Nar Shaddaa.

"Auteme confirmed her Vice," She allowed, with a tilt of her head. "But no part of me believes it was a stroke of genius credited to her alone. Our previous Chancellor, whilst undeniably effective in the realms of wealth and opportunity, had no shortage of enemies in the Senate. There were plenty who would have plotted and counselled to ensure a promising candidate would have their faults met perfectly. Now, we stand with her possessing a taste of power, headstrong and willful. Tempered, these qualities offer security to the Alliance."

Momentary pause allowed Anna to check her datapad. Footage of the warzone rolled, but nothing useful yet.

"Left to run wild, the heart of our very nation is threatened. A vote of no confidence remains a last resort, yet the question of succession is unanswered. An office divided is far better than one of ruin, yes? Our duty remains to check and balance threats that would undo our democracy wholly."
 
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SELVARIS | YUUZAN VONG WARCAMP | TUNNELS
LEADER OF THE COMPANIONS | BEARER OF
THE RING OF JUDGEMENT
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Last time she was on Selvaris, he’d been alive.

Even now, when she and a platoon of the Companions encircled the drop zone and the wind whipped at her face and hair, that reflection brought with it a pang of guilt. Like a tug on her heart strings, playing the same wistful tune that she was revisiting this foul planet and he was not. He could not. And she was only able to be here because of his sacrifice.

She closed her eyes, and drew in a shaky breath to centre herself as she’d so often been told to do. There were words of wisdom that had been shared on this planet that still found relevance and application; especially as she considered the brutality and war she was about to engage.

"Erase your guilt. Rip out your hate. Excise everything in your heart except for one thing, duty. We will attempt to destroy this evil. Here and now. But there will be no pleasure or satisfaction."

Gone were the days that she revelled in the slaughter and gloried in the gore. Everything was more precise now. Heavier. Sharper. More focused. She collected no more trophies.

Once they dropped from the ships, Ishida stole only a moment for pause. Her blade drew itself perpendicular to her face as if in a ritual pose of prayer for a few precious seconds of stillness. The last she’d experience until the day ended.

Ishida and her platoon of zealots were part of, if not entirely, the first wave. They poured over the edges of the tunnels, letting their senses guide them — to duty, to light.

Sardun had wanted this long ago. And now that she was doing it, going through the motions of bringing the war and light to darkness itself, it felt right. And nobody was telling her otherwise any longer. And ever since she’d accepted her role within the Silik, she’d found that the distance that came with time helped tip the scales of her heart and mind back into balance. Back to duty.

Deep in the earth, the tunnels worked as funnels for the crusaders to spill through. Both her katana and lightsaber burned, cutting, carving, and ending all that The Maw could throw into the narrow passageways. But deep as they were, they were not immune to the skies that shattered and cracked above.

Those that made it planetside had been warned that the Maw’s desperation would be active in the atmosphere. Ishida just hadn’t expected it so soon.

Her senses lit up a fraction of a moment before a large chunk of durasteel, part of what had once been a generator, plummeted into her path. It careened into the dirt, colliding with the carved out section and erupting in a burst of sparks, metal, dirt, and blood.

Ishida ducked, and rised a Force-born shield as quickly as she could to protect herself and any around her — but it was a belated gesture. Instead of covering her entirely, it only added a thinness to the impact. The shockwave rippled through her barrier, orange, yellow and red blossoming out from the generator in a fiery eruption. It all pushed against her shield, and the sheer torrential pressure slammed the little Knight into a carved out wall.

Muddied and bruised, Ishida pushed her arm out further and the barrier evolved from a shield to something more overreaching and consuming, arcing and closing around the fiery generator to exchange energy for energy, spider webbing into opalescent skitters throughout the dome that pressed in and in and eventually dispersed the inferno that was building in the tunnel.

When it was done, she exhaled heavily. Her momentum had been severely damaged, and her path forward blocked. And where was she now? Forward was now somewhere....else.

But why did it feel familiar? In a spiky, uncomfortable way. Like an itch. Beneath her glove, the ring pulsed and strengthened her ability to perceive.

"You.." she whispered, clarity burned through the disorientation.



ALLIES | NEW JEDI ORDER | GALACTIC ALLIANCE |
FOES | BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | Mercy Mercy

 
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Selvaris was a damn mess.

Not surprising since it was Vongshaped decades ago by the then-Sith Government in the Core. Not a great choice as far as Mercy was concerned. There was nothing fun about the Yuuzhan Vong. They were a bunch of crazed, organic weirdos that enjoyed to torture one another. Here's the thing, Mercy was fine with torture, but doing it to yourself for pleasure?

No, that was a bit too much even for Mercy.

Anyway.

The Maw and her were old acquaintances. From delivering slaves to them to receiving the opportunity to raid an Eternal Empire museum, Mercy had enough intel on them to know what was happening on the surface.

Something was boiling on the surface. The cultists were... well disarray implied they were ever disciplined and orderly, but certainly MORE chaotic than they usually were. Mercy didn't care. What she did care about was the treasure trove she received in return for stationing herself on Selvaris for a few days to fortify it.

The sudden Alliance incursion was welcome to her. It meant she could go from sitting on her arse doing nothing to wading into battle. Oh, and wade she certainly did.

For instance.

Mercy grabbed hold of a recessed emergency reactor, ripping it out of its hinged and threw it straight into (towards really) a gang of Alliance troopers in the makeshift trenches. Who even fought in trenches anymore? Too late to argue about it now however, because as the explosion rang Mercy leaped into the fire and fray.

Where she was met with... Ishida Ashina.

"ME!" She yelled with joyous rapture and pleasure. Something was different now however. A Light capital L was burning at her skin. It made her growl, twisting her shoulders and neck, to work against the sudden onset of a migraine. It didn't last, because her arm, right and righteous pulsed in return.

It pushed back against the tide of the Light.

Her tattoos coiled in on themselves and writhed just under her skin.

"Will we kiss again, sweet Jedi?" Mercy positively purred while her right hand's fingers began to coil and contort on their own. A spell was trying to take shape in the sky above them. "Or will we-" Before she could finish her questing ask, she pushed herself off the mud and threw herself towards Ishida with no hesitation.

There was strength coursing through her. Tapped from a parallel world that had little to do with theirs. Ancient, magnificent and dark. It only magnified the hunger within. Meat, meat meat... meat.

Her fist would slam into Ish's shield and there was nothing natural at the kinetic tide it brought forth towards her opponent.

"-...dance?" Mercy finished with a smirk.
 

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Miri Nimdok
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THE JUNGLE
SELVARIS

"Remind me again, Mr. Monk. How many journals and papers have you published in your long and storied career?" the ghost asked coyly. "My works are still occasionally being published posthumously. Strange how people can take more of an interest in you after you're dead, hm? I wasn't nearly as appreciated in life as I am now..."

"Sympathy for the dead old sport, nothing more! Without me your intellectual pablum would not have garnered half the simpering acclaim of such feeble minds. I made you what you are! Me! Vector Monk!"

By now even the slaves were used to their master ranting at ghosts. Actual voices responding from the jungle however was a new and unsettling development. Vector failed to notice that this Nimdok wasn't in his head. Paranoid delusions were consuming him. Creature moaned.

"Laugh while you can!" the archaeologist cried into the jungle, "We'll see who's won when I've bound your spirit with dark relics! You hear me, Nimdok?! Show yourself! NIMDOK!"

Something hit him like an oncoming speeder and when Monk regained consciousness a few seconds later he blinked a few times before examining a hole in his smoking helmet. Something hot and sticky oozed down his scalp. Ghosts couldn't use guns! That was against the rules.

"Cheater!" Vector screamed, "Face me like a man, Errik!"

He drew his particle blaster for all the good it would do before gesturing savagely at the huddled whimpering slaves.

"Bring the ghost to me," he lied, "and I will banish it. Whoever survives earns their freedom from this wretched jungle."

Monk watched the pitiful things as they were goaded ahead by a few loaned Maw slave bosses. Palpatine's observatory must have the mystic protection he required. It was now a matter of life and death.
 
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D U L C E T
HYPERLANE BETWEEN SHIHON AND OYOKAL | EN ROUTE TO OYOKAL
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The hyperlane connecting Shihon to Oyokal wasn’t as guarded as the skies above Selvaris. The numbers from both The Starbird and the Skull and Bones were lesser. All the precautions The Alliance had taken to launch from Copero had gone mostly ignored by the Maw, who were already thin on resources — but the fewer numbers meant more desperation.

Despite all the preparations, somehow, the Maw’s starfighter components had met them in the tunnel of light between planets. And they were chaotic, violent, and bloodthirsty.

M and her analysts had predicted that something like this might happen, and had plotted out what they thought might be a good flightpath to shake any who dare meet them halfway. Which made Cordé and Frea both the insertion, and distraction team.

When Cordé had checked in on her once-upon-a-time-patient to deliver meds, and check in on her concussion, she’d alluded to the upcoming mission and framed it as a recruitment from one division of The Defense Force to another. Word for word, Cordé had shared verbatim the dangers that the analysts had predicted. And Frea’s response was just: "Wow, that's it? I can do that in my sleep.” —— which was probably meant to be assuring but…

…now Cordé’s nails were making permanent crescent-shapes in the leather. Her eyes were closed for most of it, but the last time her eyes had been opened, the laser attacks had increased violently. She’d heard something beep about maximum sunlight velocity, and immediately felt her claustrophobia spike. She was hurtling through stars that streaked like cylinders in a little metal coffin. A rocking coffin, at that. And she was convinced that she was sharing her all-too-confined space with a madwoman, lunatic star jockey.

Something shifted, and Cordé felt her stomach lurch into her throat. If she weren’t so afraid of confined spaces, this would have been marvellous and beautiful. The Maw had sent fighters to intercept the Alliance’s jump into space, and fighting in a tunnel of light was an incredible rush.

White, pale light from the stretching stars outside stretched through the viewport, and when she opened her eyes, one at a time, she was nearly blinded. Except for the silhouettes that darkened the rush of light and seemed to be getting closer.

“Those look close,” she heard herself say in a thin whisper that trailed off into a groan when they moved again. At some point, Cordé was going to have to base jump out of this moving death trap.

And that was the best case scenario. At this point, she wasn’t so sure they were going to make it out of the tunnel of light and to Oyokal at all. But Frea’s dossier had been so…

They lurched again, and she shoved herself deeper into her seat.

“Karking..”
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F O E S | THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | OPEN
F R I E N D S | GA | NJO | SIA | Frea Sheplin Frea Sheplin

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Ziare Dyarron | Keilara Kala'myr | Mercy | Freedom
Mongrel's Shadow and his widow; Matriarch of the Scar Hounds Tribe; Guardian of Mongrel's armour and sword
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Objective: Try to contact Manifold and ask his help.
Location: Ancient ruins, Selvaris
Equipment: FS-18-UP2 Assault Rifle | 2x Sunfury Pistol | Light Armour | Viper Mk. I Skinsuit | 2x Vibrodagger | 2x Riftblades | Promise of Freedom || Cloaking Device | 5x ASBF Probe Droid || OPBC-01m
Writing With: The Manifold The Manifold (and as Kallan) | Closed
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[ Come back… ]
"Galactic Basic" | ~ Telepathic communication ~ | << comm. channel >>
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~ Mercy ~
I dug my nails into my palm nervously. The response seemed so slow. Probably because of the time shift, or because Omni drones can actually exist for eternity and thus they had time to consider and calculate everything before they answered. Even Freedom was similar, which is why it didn't bother me that she was in the back of my mind, alone, without the others bothering her. She was there and counted all day, she didn't do anything else, she didn't bother me or the others. When I asked for help, he helped. This is how we managed to build this transceiver. How could Manifold not have noticed this?

Anyway, it wasn't important at the moment, just that he answered. Although I heard the same in his voice as I could on my own. He gave up. He was alone and did not see the meaning of existence. Ironically, two such people found each other, and hopefully he would help me and in that case I could help him too. We could give each other back hope, or the possibility of it. The opportunity to live the life we wanted. Me with Asher and he can go with Freedom and they can start rebuilding Omni's empire. I didn't care if they wiped out the entire Galaxy.

I just had to offer him the honey string. Which was not a lie, but reality. I knew he would be able to kill me if I would lie to him, because he is stronger than me, a Force user, and I could go on and on. I knew for sure from Freedom's memories that he was the strongest and most powerful Omni drone. My plan was simple, but it didn't work without him. I can't even get to Asher without him.

<< Why would your mission fail? Why would your existence be pointless? I can give you a new goal that can lead to the success of the mission. I can restore the meaning and purpose of your mission to your life. I can give you Freedom. Help me; and I'll give your last of your companions, one of the last living Omni drones. >> I told him.

In my mind, I nodded to Freedom to act, thinking that my words would not be enough to convince Manifold.

<< 00110010001101001111110100001100 10011110010001010010101011010100 11110000010000100101001101110100 11001101001011101110100011000110 11001100111001011110100101111111 >> she sent her own digital ID, which was her only, a special signal that she could use to identify herself among the Omni drones.

As Freedom spoke, my voice also changed, as soon as she used my mouth, my voice became a different, mechanical voice, her voice.

<< Claim: I am Freedom. Our Mission: Not failed yet. Our Existence: Not Purposeless. Helping: Mercy wants to destroy the Maw and the Taskmaster. Reward for the help: Me. Reasons: She is able to separate me from herself and give me to you. Consequence: Our mission has not failed, our existence is not aimless. Final calculation: There would be two of us, together we could rebuild Omni's empire. >> she said.

Then the next moment I spoke, I just had to clear my throat.

<< Taskmaster kidnapped Mongrel and my children. I want to save them. And then I want you to take all three of us to the Netherworld. If you help with that… as Freedom said. I give her to you, you don't have to be alone anymore. >> I told him my offer.

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~ Keilara ~
I tried to make him happy or not worry so much. I tried similar methods to when Mercy dealt with Asher. I just wanted Kallan to get better. Now I think that's exactly why I did what Mercy did for years. For years to keep Asher alive, to make him feel important and needed. The same was true for Kallan, I needed him and it made me happier than anything that he was here, that we could be together, the fact that we healed and grew stronger together. And because of these, we shared a bond that others probably never will.

I smiled kindly and reassuringly at him when he said he would try. I know it wasn't easy, since he didn't have a physical body for a very long time, and neither did I. Since I was three or four years old, I only existed as I was now. That might be even longer than Kallan had to spend without a body. But! But he was one with Asher, or at least it was the same relationship as me and Mercy, and they were the most powerful people I've ever known in the galaxy. However, I have seen quite a few documentaries and read a lot since I was able to ask MANIAC for such a thing.

~ I trust you and I know you will succeed. ~ I whispered to him and smiled at him kindly again. ~ You are the strongest person I have ever known. You were able to overcome Taskmaster and Heathen priests. You've come back from the place where no one was supposed to come back from. Don't underestimate yourself, you are much stronger than you think. You and Asher didn't believe that, even though it was true. ~

I reached up to his face and caressed him gently. I was being completely honest, I really meant what I said.

~ I know it will work. Soon we will have the ring, maybe it will be even easier if the body is like yours. I won't say that I understand how it works, because only Freedom was really a Force user, but I believe in those who work in alchemy that this body will be able to change into something like yours when you control it. ~ I was still smiling cheerfully.

I was excited to see what it would be like when, in some strange way, Kallan finally got his own body back that was taken from him by the Maw.

~ If this is difficult, think that I am here, and if we both go along this path, we can achieve one of our greatest desires. We can walk hand in hand on Serenno in the meadow, in reality and not just in the mind palace. Finally, we will be able to physically hold each other's hands, touch each other. For me, just the hope of that, and the knowledge that I will one day see you in a physical body that looks the way you should... is more empowering than anything else. Even if only figuratively, we would defeat the Maw. We, who are not warriors, would be able to take back from them what they took from us. Together... and even the children are there. What is this if not almost everything we wanted from our life together? ~ I asked and tried to reassure and encourage him.

I took his hand and kissed his palm, softly, with care.

~ And if the wars don't end here in Realspace... we'll be able to open our own Speeder repair shop in the Netherworld as well. There are also researchers and people who need something like this. ~ I continued dreamily with a happy smile. ~ I believe that we will be happy and get the life we want. ~

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SELVARIS | YUUZAN VONG WARCAMP | TUNNELS
LEADER OF THE COMPANIONS | BEARER OF
THE RING OF JUDGEMENT
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It happened so quickly. The Force, a construct of intangible manipulation, reshaped to a shield, somehow became so tangible that it shattered. Ishida flinched into a duck, dropping to her knees entirely to avoid a fist the size of her face.

This Sith's reappearance on Selvaris created parallels she did not like. Laoth Laoth had appeared on Selvaris after Ishida'd tried to extend mercy on Jedha— his survival had been a failure and cost the lives of a squadron at least. And now this Sith was the same. One that she'd contested before, but let survive. She'd shown restraint both times, and resulted in...

...Ishida couldn't let the past repeat itself. Or even rhyme.

"Neither," Ishida sneered, and from her off-balanced crouch-slash-full-side-laying-situation, Ishida shoved her blades forward to catch the goliath's leg in the 'V' of her crossed blades. Steel and saber moved first, and her body second, leveraging into a low-lunge from knees to feet to get out and away from her against-the-wall position to either the side or rightly behind the Sith.

Where they were was still unclear, but Ishida let her disorientation fall by the wayside; her new priority was not repeating the past.



ALLIES | NEW JEDI ORDER | GALACTIC ALLIANCE |
FOES | BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW | Mercy Mercy

 
This was a standard alliance vessel, the third model of a recognizable brand with a few modifications to its drive core and IFF signatures. It drew a bit more power than the reactor was meant to push and there were some subtle fluctuations in its anti-gravity fields that spoke all too much about how it struggled to keep the weight of these additions in check. Of course, it was barely noticeable to those who weren't much of a pilot, but luckily for Cordé she wasn't sitting with just a pilot but the galaxy's premiere metallic acrobat. This coffin couldn't have had a better helmsman.

When she had sat down in its padded seats that were thick enough to just barely count as being padded she felt a wave of memories wash over her. Good ones, happy ones, and all things considered very recent ones. This might have been sold as a GADF operation, but Frea did not buy that for a second. After all, she was dense but not that dense. Cordé and Frea had met under a blanket of lies and nothing so far had really given the white-haired woman any reason to believe that Cordé would tell her anything other than another lie.

The pay was good, the medic had shown that she was at least somewhat on Frea's side, and as far as reasons went for risking her life in a dangerous display of skill it was enough for her. It put her in the seat of a starcraft again after all, and there was really no greater gift than that after what seemed like an eternity on Coruscant.

They were already in the air by the time that they had taken their seats and by the time that they had cleared the hangar bay with a clear line between them and the atmosphere they were already seeing streaks run past their viewport. This had been the first taste of chaos in a long row of intense jumps between the two women and their rallying point. The unmistakable voices of military command buzzed through their intercom to signal their arrival and after that it wasn't a particularly long stay.

The fleet shifted into action. A few calls here, another few there, and before long they were piercing the veil that kept hyperspace from bleeding into realspace once again. It wasn't before long until they had company as Cordé so kindly pointed out.

"I know." Frea grinned at Cordé's remark but kept her attention on the incoming fighters. Cordé repeated her warning and Frea raised her voice, brows furrowing ever so slightly. "I know, calm down!"

The pilot shifted in her seat as she reached up to flick the switches in the ceiling. The streak of stars began to fade for a second before they snapped back into the empty void of space. Frea counted down from four as the engine entered a brief recalculation cycle. By the second digit down she shifted diverted all excess power to the front shields and by the last their company arrived. Frea reached for the hyperdrive throttle yet again to yank them back into hyperspace yet again followed by a small field of debris from what had once been a single Maw fighter.

Now they were at the front and the pursuers in the back. Excellent.

"What kind of bombs did you strap to this thing?" Frea asked and looked over at Cordé, worried from the lack of any immediate response. "Please tell me that you have ordinance to drop from this thing."

Cordé Sabo Cordé Sabo
 
Mercy would have pointed out that the way Ishida was bouncing around the place was practically dancing.

Sadly she was too busy not losing her legs.

She swatted the lightsaber away. The superheated plasma spilling against her hand and burning it, but miraculously not cutting her fingers off. In short bursts of contact Mercy could disperse the energy with focus. She was getting better and better at it. Last time she tried this, she had lost three fingers and it had been a schutta to grow those back.

"Touchy." The burly woman hissed with unadulterated joy. "I have been where you are, Ishy!"

A rough barking laugh accompanied her quick whirl around to meet Ishida face-to-face.

It was probably expected of her to come at the small woman again. This was how Mercy usually fought. Or did anyway. But instead her right arm, shimmering and angry, slammed itself into the cavernous wall near them. Then pulled out with sharp gritty stone coming with. It caused a tremor through the trench, sending larger pieces of rock flying down.

Right towards Ishida.

"You can do better."

Mercy certainly could.
 
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BYOO: GOLDEN OPPORTUNITIES // STARBIRD CLEARANCE SENATOR INVITE // PROPOSAL
Annasari Annasari Ruto Tane Ruto Tane Damian Du Couteau Damian Du Couteau Alicio Organa Alicio Organa Caulder Dune Caulder Dune


She listened in quiet contemplation as she processed the concerns, comments, and support of others. Her eyes scanned slowly over the details of the proposal one more time, searching for any hidden agenda or loophole that might suggest an ulterior motive, but from what she was reading, it seemed well thought out. All of her concerns seems to be addressed.

Of coarse, the biggest weight that Tiresh carried was preserving all the work that the Free Alliance Coalition had labored so painfully to establish. Whatever Auteme thought of the Senator personally, the Chancellor had been established on the backs of the FAC, and Tiresh would not simply stand by and let all of their hard work be undone. She was a guardian in that regard. And her eyes were always watching.

Her finger tapped silently against the side of the holopad, her mind trying to find any trap that might be laid before her feet. At Annasari Annasari 's more provocative comments about the possibility of a vote of no confidence. She immediately set her data pad down with a rather loud tap against the table and took in a deep breath, her eyes focusing intently upon Annasari.

"If this is meant to be the further establishment of democracy, to be the addressing of obvious concerns related to our current predicament without a Vice Chancellor, then you will have my support. However…" Tiresh's eyes drifted across the room, studying everyone's response as she spoke, "Any further suggestion of even the possibility of removing the chancellor through a vote of no confidence, or any other such divisive lines of thought, and my support shall be removed. I share many of the concerns shared by Senator Vahl, however… let's not be naive to believe that there are not ambitious parties within the Chamber."

Tiresh held up the data pad, "From what I have read, this is a progressive piece of legislation that will take another important step forward for us as a republic. It is not an attempt to oust the Chancellor, nor to make some ambitious power move by a specific faction…" Her eyes drifted back to Annasari, pausing as her piercing gaze seemed to contemplate the woman, "It is a check and a balance set in place to ensure the people's voices are represented in the highest offices of leadership. And that is worth our support."
 


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Location: Shiihoon
Duel tag: Bané Zirbils Bané Zirbils
Other foes: Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el Iris Arani Iris Arani Cynthia Alucard Cynthia Alucard Tren Chaar Tren Chaar

Equipment:
Piloting - Torr'Chir
Eyes of Khoine
Pulsiva flight suit
2x Cartridge Revolvers
Retractable Neural Stinger
Four squadrons of eight Chir'Shada Starfighters

Squadron quipped with a mixture of proton torpedoes, disruptor torpedoes and Witchfire Missiles

And so it was that Bané Zirbils Bané Zirbils got to choose when she was detected, her targeting scanners lighting up the previously invisible ship as she fired the discord missile. Unseen to Khione off to her wing, a pair of her brethren automatically launcher pepperbox anti-warhead projectiles towards the oncoming missile, intercepting it in a burst of fire, unfortunately this is rarely effective at stopping the buzz droids from release and two of the fighters rushed through the cloud of carnivorous little machines, one was damaged but managed to shake them off and escape combat. The other was less lucky and the droids managed to disable the connection between the ball shaped cockpit and the spinning s-foils, leaving the pilot out of control and slamming into the side of one of the jellyfish.

Khione snarled and then a smile curled around her lips as the offending vessel flashed past her. At the relative passing speeds there was no way it could have happened, but Khione could have sworn she saw the pretty pilot from mustafar looking right in her eyes. <Een en twee op my, Naldex is myne, die res van julle betrek haar eskader.>

The Palliduvan turned hard, feeling the familiar squeeze as her flightsuit ensured her organs remained in the right place, her agility array allowed her to out turn virtually any fighter, including her own wingmen who would need a few seconds to catch up, but not in her sights was the image of the advanced X-wing. She pulled the trigger and her disruptor cannons sprayed magenta beams toward her foe. The stealthy nature of her enemy, combined with the gas was messing with her targeting systems, making it difficult to get a proper bead on her for. She flipped a switch and opened a channel that her foe might hear. <I've missed you pretty girl, new ship? Will be a shame to shoot you down> she taunted in her distinctive broke basic accent. Not far from the duelling pair was another one of the jellyfish, its long tentacles hung below it and Khione wondered if her target might head for them.

Across the battlezone, the rest of her fighters began to engage the other enemy pilots, they would have to pick their targets carefully as the Alliance were known for the number of jedi amongst their fighter corps. The Nebula tactics would typically be trying to hit and run, engaging alliance fighters as they picked fights with the more numerous tie fighters, and only engaging in dogfights if they felt the terms favoured them. Every one of Khiones warriors were born in the saddle and more than a match for elite military pilots if the force was taken out of the equation. Unfortunately that was easier said than done.
 


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There were in fact, many ambitious parties within the Galactic Senate, Kobitana among them. It didn't matter how well she hid it, the media was well aware of her future political prospects and everything she had done in the last decade or so made her a plausible and powerful contender for Chancellor in the near future. Now, did Iago expect her to run against Auteme? Perhaps not. But if he had to guess, she was aiming to be Auteme's successor.

The concerns of the other Senators were not something he planned on addressing. They were valid reasons to voice discontent, if rooted in hypotheticals and personal feelings. "The truth of the matter is, my fellow Senators, we do have a young chancellor"

"Her work has been exceptional even if I do disagree with some key elements of her economic policy but that does not distract from the fact that she needs a Vice who can control the bureaucrats" He explained his position without passion or empathy. Without emotion at all, really. "The Chancellor chose Mr. Pryce not only because he was the best choice politically, but also because he could stand firm against the lobbyists and was not scared of the bureaucrats who ran the daily operations of our beloved Senate"

He paused, pointing to each and every Senators and Representative in the room. "That is why we need this committee. Call me naive or shortsighted but I'd much rather havee a Vice Chancellor who can complement the Chancellor while standing firm against the nefarious powers who would seek to influence her"

 
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ALLIES: NSO | BOTM
ENEMIES
: GA | NJO
ENGAGING
: Silas Westgard Silas Westgard | Thelma Goth Thelma Goth
GEAR: In bio

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WHAT'S COMING TO ME

They didn't have to wait long for that challenge.

Danika felt them coming long before they came into view. Children still. The smallest of memories flashed through her mind of a child nearly killing Samron.

Never again.

When the stronger of the two landed in front of her with his blade ignited, a shift had taken place within the Lady of Bone.
"Press forward, General." she said, her teal eyes never leaving the two young ones in front of her.
The Falleen hesitated only a second before he adhered to his Lord's wishes. He knew Danika's every shift and mood and when to protest and when to move on.

Her otherworldly eyes found the two Jedi in front of her.
"You should learn to read the Force better, darling." she told Silas. "I haven't been a Sith for almost thirty years now." Her eyes then found the girl. There was a quiet, powerful knowledge there. Interesting. "But you know, don't you?" she asked her rhetorically before the amethyst blade hummed into a position.
"You have no idea who I am, do you, boy?" she asked him. "If you did, you wouldn't stand in my way."

Without moving much more than a few fingers, the Force burst forth in an attempt to throw the young man out of the way. In an almost simultaneous movement, the amethyst blade struck down at the girl in a blur of movement, mostly to test defences.

She was an old hand at battles. She was ready for any unorthodox movements from either one of them. None of them was Simon Meinrad Simon Meinrad who had been the only one so far who had given her a real run for her money.

Toying with them would be a pleasure.


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The Admiralty
Codex Judge



Half an hour in and Arage already felt this was a waste of her time.

She let them spar between themselves as she listened quietly. They were all ambitious sorts, but there was ambition and then there was ambition. Annasari was clearly the latter. Kobitana was the former. For whatever reason the Lujo Senator wanted desperately to be seen as loyal to the current Chancellor, which would probably earn her points from the wisened representative of the Commerce Guild.

If it were up to Arage she would have kicked the chair from under Auteme. It was bad enough the Jedi had infested parts of the Alliance military, 'Generals' like Osarla Ridor Osarla Ridor came to mind. Now they were also weaseling their way into politics.

One thinly-shaped finger gave a gentle stroke against her brow, smoothing it over after frowning a bit too much, before sighing relatively loudly.

"Picking Pryce as Vice Councellor was hardly a stroke of genius." Arage finally interceded with the trademark clipped tone. "Former military, a leader from one of the Alliance's founding states, impeccable pedigree and a knack for strategy. Come now. It doesn't take a tactical mastermind to see the obvious choice as an inexperienced former Jedi with hardly any allies on the Senate."

How that Jedi cretin had managed to slinks her way into the Chancellorship was beyond Arage. If anything, Pryce's acceptance of the inferior role, instead of seizing the primary position himself was a sign of weakness.

Somehow while she was pacifying Humbarine and making her designs on Kuat it had slipped her by. But that was on her.

"Regardless. I am supportive of this committee as long as it is decisive and doesn't willfully blind itself to reality. Only a while ago the full Senate wasn't sure if we were even in conflict with the New Imperial Order practically at the same time as those mongrels assaulted our ships on Neshtab while in the progress of violently annexing the world."

This was delivered without a hint of irony. Except perhaps for a slight curl on her expression. After all, Arage was here in the capacity as the Senator of Humbarine, but she was far better known as the Lord Admiral Bao. De facto despot of the Humbarine Reach, who had only recently taken control of the Kuat Sector and crowned herself Queen.

Oh, certainly, it was all done within the boundaries of Law. Approved and tacitly supported by the Alliance. But only because they realized that if Kuat spun out of control, they'd have to deal with a refugee crisis on top of rogue Imperial secessionists. Not a fine situation to find yourself in when the Maw was beating at your gates and the New Imperial Order was salivating at the prospect of internal destabilization.

"We find ourselves in dangerous times, ladies and gentlebeings. What we cannot afford is to keep endlessly debating and mincing words because of propriety."
 
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Miri Nimdok

Guest
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Tag: Vector Monk Vector Monk
The spirit of the Professor laughed heartily at Vector's extravagant claims.

"Laugh while you can! We'll see who's won when I've bound your spirit with dark relics! You hear me, Nimdok?! Show yourself! NIMDOK!"

"I would love to see you try to bind me," the Professor said. "But all right. If you insist..."

A shimmer of light appeared in the jungle as the ghost began to manifest. Then a shot rang out. The slug passed harmlessly through the Professor's spectral chest, striking Vector's pith helmet.

"Ah, that's going to leave a mark," the ghost commented. "It wasn't me, Monk. Do you see a gun in my hand?" Turning in the direction the bullet had originated from, he frowned.

"Bring the ghost to me, and I will banish it. Whoever survives earns their freedom from this wretched jungle."

Professor Nimdok turned to find a trio of pitiful slaves surrounding him, their eyes wide with terror and desperation. They had no idea how to capture a phantom and bring it to their master, but they were damned if they didn't try. Alas, the Professor simply faded from view as they lunged at him, causing them to crash into each other and fall in a tangled heap on the jungle floor.

"Yoohoo! Over here!" he taunted, reappearing several feet away and waving his arms. "Come and get me!"



Miri grit her teeth in anticipation as the shot hit its mark... then snarled when Vector Monk got up again. He was wounded, but not dead. She started to take aim once more, intent on finishing the job, when voices and feet came crashing through the underbrush, headed for her position.

Vector had set the slaves upon her, driven by Mawite overseers. Staying in cover among the trees, Miri engaged her pursuers in a game of cat and mouse, coming out of hiding to pick off the overseers with quick bullseye shots. The jungles filled with the sound of slugthrower and blaster fire.

She couldn't help noticing that they were lousy shots. Poor marksmanship aside, it was almost as if they weren't even aiming at her, but at something else in the forest that kept distracting them. She supposed she had no right to complain, especially since whatever it was seemed to be diverting fire away from her, but it was strange. Miri had come here alone, so who would be helping her?...
 

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