Dominion Mind the Gap | GA Dominion of Zardossa Strix

[Ryv]

S W O R D _ O F _ T H E _ J E D I
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
OUT OF THE LINE OF FIRE
TAGS: OPEN
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER

POLARIZE
​

A series of images flashed.

Lines of men and women being forced into a large warehouse. People screamed from within, others cried, and every so often, a pained grunt escaped the mass as someone experienced a lesson they wouldn't soon forget. Outside of it stood several armed gangsters. Most of them looked too nasty to tangle with for the everyday individual. The twi'lek hurried over to a droid armed with a nasty looking blaster-rifle meant for mid to long-range shooting. The alien's body trembled as he stepped up, though it couldn't be from fear. He seemed to be laughing at a joke he must've muttered seconds before.

As he stopped, the droid looked down at him.

"What is it?" the monotone voice inquired. "You should be out collecting more bodies. The buyer is demanding at least thirty able-bodied meat sacks."

"I managed to find some top quality wares, sir," the twi'lek turned and motioned towards a pair of women unconscious in the back of his speeder. "It took a bit of work to separate them from their brats, but I know the boss loves those zeltron and human women most. I hear there's a higher payout for them."

The droid turned and stepped over to the speeder. It leaned over the side, its movements as emotionless as the tone of its voice. "Yes, I believe this will do well. I will ensure the proper sum of credits is transferred to your account upon completion. Now, get back out there and do your job. We'll be leaving soon."

"Very well, sir, yes sir," the twi'lek turned and hurried off. He passed by several large speeders, each capable of holding a dozen people in the back. Out the corner of his eye, he noticed a fountain with muddy brown water and spit. "Disgusting."

​

Ryv gasped as he came back to. He dropped the twi'lek's head and turned to reorientate himself.

"Shit, shit, shit," he took off down the way he came at an astonishing speed. The Force came to him without request, seemingly to aid in stopping whatever horrendous fate awaited the captured citizens. His body blurred against the city's backdrop. Buildings, stalls, and speeders passed by without the Jedi Knight taking notice. His sole focus was the park he'd passed through minutes before. He moved past the abandoned bodega and slid to a stop along the same duracrete sidewalk as before.

"Dammit, where's the fountain?!" he hollered as he turned full circles. He sprinted down the road adjacent to the park, his gaze trained on each street he passed. Several minutes later, he finally spotted the same fountain from his vision. "Aha!"

Ryv's booted foot pressed down into the street to slow his speed. He slid half a dozen feet before he slammed into the side of a building. All he could do was grunt, wipe at the now tender flesh, and take off running yet again.

"C'mon, I can't be late, c'mon," he pleaded to the Force as he passed the fountain. When the same warehouse from his vision came into view, he looked to a nearby building and leaped atop it. The moment his feet hit its surface, he tucked his knees, dropped into a roll, and immediately jumped back up to push onward. His chest ached as each breath physically burned his lungs. His legs yearned to stop moving, but he couldn't slow down. Instead, he increased his pacing further, ran to the edge of the first building, and cleared the ten-foot gap between it and the next set of homes. He cut across several streets this way until the warehouse loomed ahead of him.

He arrived just in time to witness a pink-skinned woman shoved into the back of a speeder. The door slammed shut behind her, and the culprits of the kidnapping hurried into the vehicle.

"Oh, I'm gonna enjoy every second of what I'm gonna do to you slimy bastards," Ryv snarled as he stepped up to the ledge and soared through the air. This time his feet found purchase on the enclosed speeder's top, and he dropped to his knees. It jolted into action immediately, picking up speed much faster than the Jedi anticipated.

Unable to keep his balance, he found himself tumble back and over the side. He flailed out with an arm and caught the back of the speeder's bumper. Unfortunately, the rest of his body slammed into the street. His flesh burned as he felt segments of his skin tear with each second in his precarious position. His other hand gripped tight on the bumper and pulled.

 

[Gala Geert]

BYOO // ABOARD CHARON
Inaros Kaal

​

“You’re here too? Kark the kriff off.” Gala Guffawed, slapping at her thigh at the ridiculousness of this situation. “They’ve got to fire the pencil pusher that put us here, I swear to feth.”

Well, to be fair, she’d signed up for this because she was bored on the cruiser. A vacation down Starbird’s spine had sounded like a great idea in a hallucinogenic haze, but in actuality, it was incredibly flat. And boring. So to take a few photos for a day or two, and rake in some more creds for an actual vacation?

Why the feth not.

“Alright, which section are you in charge of? I’ve got..” she looked down at her tablet, rotating the screen once-twice. The figures in blue leaped out at her, swiggling and waving through the air and she blinked. The hallucinogens were still avid in her bloodstream. “B5.”

 

[Alex Locke]

//: E V A C U A T I O N //:
//: Zaavik Perl //: Ripley Kühn //:
//: V A N G U A R D //:

​

Fingers played along with the transport control panel; this was probably the most significant thing Alex had handled since flight school. Even then, their focus was piloting smaller fighter crafts - that were faster and more dangerous. As much as she enjoyed the thrill of being in combat (that’s a lie), she felt better about doing something good for once. She had gotten a handle on the craft’s controls, and she felt a bit more comfortable moving it about. ​

​

A voice echoed through the shared comms, and it nearly made the blonde jump. She had been so inside her own head, going over what she had remembered in school, that the Zeltron’s rough voice caught her off guard. She reached down and attempted to grab the comm device but fumbled as the voice vibrated through it. The comm had fallen at her feet, and she reached down and swiped her hand just out of reach. As much as she hated it, she focused a little on the force and quickly turned the comm device on with mechu deru; her voice cracked as she spoke. ​

​

“Th-This is Flight Offi-Officer Locke, I’m close by - its um” She paused for a moment and mentally did a check of the dimensions of the transport vehicle. “I-I can fit a bantha in here. Be there in a few minutes. Over.” The comm device would rattle on her transport vehicle floor as she drove it towards where Zaavik and the stubborn farmer were. ​

​

Sliding out of her seat, Alex grabbed the comm and shoved it into her leather jacket’s pocket. On the shoulder, she was branded with the Vanguard insignia along with the Alliance GADF. She moved quickly to the back, where she dropped the hatch for the bantha to make its way in when ready. Another scramble and a nearly fatal tumble, Alexandria Locke, stood in front of the Zeltron and saluted.​

​

“Flight officer Locke here, for the b-bantha.”​

 

[Adhira Chandra]

Her Majesty Excellency
​

Adhira was glad to see that the rest of the diplomatic envoy from Coruscant had already been assembled on the ramp when she arrived. Everyone except - Auteme who appeared at her side just as she was wondering where the young Jedi had gotten off to. The older woman smiled and set off down the ramp to meet the others, but she listened carefully to what the Jedi said as they walked and nodded her agreement. "Oh, I agree," she said softly in reply, "I have not heard glowing endorsements of character about the Port Authority Administrator and you know, better than anyone, how I feel about corporate interests." The journey that Adhira had made to Zardossa Stix was one borne of necessity and she knew that Auteme knew this as well.​

At the bottom of the ramp, she happily greeted Senator Seto du Couteau and Senator Brama Tagge . She politely pretended not to hear what they were talking about but nodded respectfully to each of them in turn. "Senators, thank you so much for joining me in this endeavor... your skills of persuasion will be most valuable in these negotiations," she said politely, secretly hoping that neither of them would undermine her own plans for negotiation, "and... ah, Commander." She turned with a smile to greet Olen Halcorr who was accompanying to assist with military matters. The Chancellor accepted his salute, though she did not return it as she knew how awkward she looked doing so, opting instead for a sharp nod.​

"Now, I was told that-"​

“Chancellor Chandra, senators of The Alliance, welcome to Zardossa Stix. My name’s Fuil Dalledos and I understand you have time-sensitive needs to be addressed.”

​

Still facing her own entourage, she closed her eyes for a moment, clearly steeling herself for what she was certain would be a very exhausting conversation. She turned sharply on her heel, cascading black skirts twirling elegantly around her. In that instant, she had transformed, her facial expression bright, eyes crinkling happily at the corners. "Ah, Administrator Dalledos," she embraced him politely like an old friend, resisting the urge to roll her eyes, "thank you so much for agreeing to see us today, I know you are very busy..."​

Adhira paused when she realized the port official had twisted up his face as if straining to hear her. Her nostrils flared slightly.​

"T-THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR AGREEING TO SEE US TODAY, I KNOW YOU ARE VERY BUSY!" The Chancellor rarely raised her voice but was nearly yelling into the man's ear to ensure he heard her. Almost every head on the dock turned to look at them, including the heads of her own guards. "Uhm... Might - MIGHT THERE BE SOMEWHERE PRIVATE WE COULD DISCUSS THESE MATTERS?" She said a silent prayer that his answer would be yes.​

 

[Seto du Couteau]

Seto Du Coutaeu
Senator of Empress Teta
Action: Exchange words with a fellow Senator
Attire

That's how you wrinkle, dear.”

​

​

The young Du Couteau heir was hardly one to get caught off guard, but when he was being addressed by Senator Tagge his smile almost disappeared. He figured none would really pay his softly spoken words much attention, but that was no so the case. Lips slightly twitched but Seto forced a sense of calm, allowing himself a chance to return back to an easy coolness as he presented the Senator with a wider smile. Such smiles were often used for nobles he intended to charm, impress or carefully disarm. He placed his data-slate down by his side with his left hand, and his right hand followed through a curt bow.​

​

“I misspoke, the aggression would definitely not be coming from me, but from someone much more. . . qualified.” Seto replied. his eyes glimmered as he continued to face Senator Tagge. “As well to the fact I have little concern for wrinkles-” his smile continued to stretch his lips as he walk ahead, keeping his focus on the good Senator herself.​

​

“-It’s been said that our faces are marked by lines of life, put there by laughter, suffering, tears and love. . . quite beautiful if you ask me.” With but an inclination of his head, his eyes peaking through his lashes towards Senator Tagge. He quickly turned his attention to his Chancellor and nodded to return the greeting.​

​

No, aggression in the most basic definition was not something he favored, even as his memories as an Inquisitor flooded his mind of many tortured shrieks. The utter darkness of it all had hardened him against such tactics, instead Seto found it much easier to rely on his own personal charm. He knew how to catch glances, and his days in the sabacc table only brought along many enjoyable moments.​

​

Especially with the subtle touches of the Force, rippling along the emotions around them all, but Seto glanced towards their accompanied Jedi and knew he needed to be careful. While others may consider it manipulation, Seto often called it gentle nudging to the right choice. There were times where words wouldn’t be enough, and the sword much too blunt, but the gentle probing through the Force? Well, it’s not like I’m attaching strings to a puppet. After all, if it was for the good of the many, the end tended to justify the means.​

​

Though it would be dishonest if the thought hadn’t come to his mind before.​

​

Of course when the representative of the Port Authority made his rambunctious entrance, Seto inwardly flinched and opted to remain quiet for the time being. His lips tightened but his short smile remained as the Chancellor exchanged greetings.​

​

Adhira Chandra | Auteme | Brama Tagge | Olen Halcorr |​

 

[Zaavik Perl]

S H A D O W
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
OBJECTIVE II
Alex Locke | Ripley Kühn

ZARDOSSA STRIX // EVAC

[ RUN TO THE HILLS ]​

“I-I can fit a bantha in here. Be there in a few minutes. Over.”​

The confirmation came as a surprise to Zaavik. Given how long it'd taken, he'd just taken the silence as a resounding 'no'. He was two seconds from tearing away from the farm on his speeder bike when the response came. "Oh? Excellent, er- copy that," he shot back over the comms as he swung his leg over to hop back onto the ground from the speeder seat.

"Hey!" Zaavik called back toward the farmer's hut as he began to reapproach. "Found someone to move your bantha! Gotta get moving, let's get your shit together!"

Disappearing into the Rodian's hut, Zaavik helped him rush to get the essentials packed up. One suitcase and a duffel bag later, the Jedi and the Farmer stood in front of the hut, watching the transport approach. Duffel bag over his shoulder, Zaavik moved forward, hand in front of his face to block the sand and dust kicked up by the transport.

A small, wry smile crept across his face and he returned a limp, half-asked salute. "I was starting to think no one was coming. Didn't think we had anything big enough," he mentioned as he heaved the bag through the bay door and helped the Rodian with his suitcase. He moved to stand beside the Flight Officer, surveiling the farmer as he trekked toward the bantha pen.

"Locke, huh?" Zaavik crossed his arms, the brim of his jacket lifting enough to expose his saber hilt. Sunlight glared off the metallic surface. "You know Allyson?"

The Famer began to shout, bickering with the stubborn bantha. His attempt to corral the group were fruitless, as the animals lacked any real sense of urgency. The Padawan raised an eyebrow. "Should we help him?"

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

LOCATION: Spaceport, Zardoss Stix
OBJECTIVE: II - Out of the Line of Fire
ALLIES: Ripley Kühn | Zaavik Perl | Ryv | Alex Locke
KIT: Lesser Ring of the Protected Mind | Visions of Gold | Attire
POST: I

Aerarii had almost lost count of the number of times he'd been responsible for supervising the evacuation of worlds caught in the path of enemy invasions.

His first had been Mygeeto. As governor of Sector Group II, the then-Moff Tithe had overseen the emptying of the vast Sith-Imperial Banking Clan vaults ahead of the New Imperial Orders attack on the world. Following the lost of the ice covered commence hub and an unstoppable push by the NIO toward Bastion, he'd been tasked with lifting military materiel from Prefsbelt IV and Orinackra to stop it falling into enemy hands. In every instance, the world had been successfully evacuated only to later fall to the enemy.

This time, it would be different.

The Senator for Aargau stood amid a flurry to logisticians, transport pilots and space traffic controllers. To the outside there appeared to be rhyme or reason to all the activity, but a closer inspection revealed a carefully choreographed dance. Figures and calculations whirled through the former bankers mind, assisted in part by his number-crunching datagoggles. Now and again he consulted his datapad for the latest updates.

Tithe led out an Aarguun curse upon hearing that a bantha was being loaded onto one of the shuttles. Did no one care for his carefully curated calculations? The weight and size of the beast were bad enough, let alone it food that would be needed to sustain the creature during transit.

"Locke, Dagoth. Have you at least catechized as to whether the bantha is, ah, house-broken?" If not, at least he now had two candidates to clean up after the animal.

A figure that he had been monitoring - the evacuated house count sliced by the assigned sub-area - began to creep higher than he liked in one particular area. With a twitch of his eyes he brought up the name of the coordinator assigned to the area in question - Jedi Knight Ryv. Judging by the data, something was impeding his process.

The Senator tried unsuccessfully to raise Ryv before reaching out to the coordinator in the adjacent area. "Ah, yes, Knight Khün. Do you have eyes on Knight Ryv? I can't raise him - we may need to reorientate resources to support his assigned area."

 

[Ripley Kühn]

OBJECTIVE 2
TAGS: Ryv

Ripley rode down the street of a modest neighborhood, enjoying the wind on her hair, perched atop the speeder she picked up before heading back out. She had weaved her way throughout her assigned sector, but the couple folks she had come across were already packed up and headed to the starport. She didn't want to miss a single soul though, so she decided to loop around the area again.

The Senator tried unsuccessfully to raise Ryv before reaching out to the coordinator in the adjacent area. "Ah, yes, Knight Khün. Do you eyes on Knight Ryv? I can't raise him - we may need to reorientate resources to support his assigned area."

Her brow furrowed at the communication, confused. Ryv, slacking off? That was strange. After her bike slowed to a halt, her hand reached for her comm device, replying to the vice chair.

<<Negative, Senator Tithe. I'm all but finished up in this sector, I'll head over there and see what's going on.>>

Circling the last few blocks, Ripley couldn't help but worry. She couldn't see a reason the kiffar would abandon his duties, unless something dire had happened. The city was seemed relatively calm for all that was going on, so what could have led him astray, she wasn't sure. The speeder picked up momentum, the knight pushing it as hard as she could, anxious to get to the next zone.

 

[Auteme]

Adhira Chandra Olen Halcorr Brama Tagge Seto du Couteau ​

Auteme looked to the man addressing her, sizing him up for a moment before giving a warm smile. A blonde pilot, still dressed in his flight suit. He must've been part of the envoy as well. She kicked herself for not checking the list. It was obvious he knew who she was. All she could do was glance at his rank insignia.

"I'm afraid it was worse than that, Commander -- there was no nap at all," she said, giving a little laugh.

"I don't believe we've formally met. I'm Auteme Denko-Durren, Knight and Senate Representative of the New Jedi Order." No need to make a big deal of the mistaken rank; the Port Authority representatives were approaching. "Though, I'm guessing you already knew that. I can't say I dress as a Jedi very often."

Not that there was much of a dress code for the New Jedi Order. Auteme's attire today was only a few steps better than Olen's; a long green dress and a heavy sash. Far from the bright and impeccable style of the Chancellor, though she was unwittingly emulating it.

Of course, even a flight suit was better than the messy uniform and jumpsuit the Port Authority's leaders wore. For a brief moment Auteme wondered if her wardrobe was becoming too fancy. The press wondered often how many outfits she actually had in her closet -- as did the numerous fans of that as-of-yet continuing holoseries the Totally Real Adventures of Auteme.

Funny how here there were far fewer paying attention to her.

Dalledos began to lead the diplomats back to the meeting room (she hoped). Though she stayed near the Chancellor, she decided to strike up conversation with the young pilot. "Do you have much political experience, Commander?"

 

[Ryv]

S W O R D _ O F _ T H E _ J E D I
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
OUT OF THE LINE OF FIRE
TAGS: Ripley Kühn
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER

POLARIZE
​

One hand over the other, inch by inch, Ryv pulled himself up the back of the speeder. He looked down as he clung to its rear, his jeans ripped up along the knee. The skin beneath was an angry red color, blood and dirt intermingled along the torn flesh. Other areas of his body hurt, the sting of being dragged several blocks enough to bring tears to the Jedi Knight's eyes. If it weren't for the number of innocents herded into the vehicle he now clung to for dear life, the kiffar was sure he'd of just let go and did anything else. He kept his mind on the prize and worked around the side of the speeder. Focus on the mission. He could not fail them.

Some still screamed inside. They beat against the insides as if they'd break free of their prison through sheer willpower alone. Quiet sobs also leaked out from the interior, likely from those who'd already given up hope. One of the slavers shouted at their cargo. Anger littered every word, but Ryv could feel his guilt as well. It was impossible to shake shame's icy grip during such work. Only those with unbalanced minds could turn their backs on their emotions and abandon what made them people. Your average criminal couldn't do it; most waded into the work by a lack of options altogether. Ryv pitied them, up until the gangster in the passenger seat leaned out the window and unloaded his blaster, sights set on the Jedi Knight.

One hand locked onto the top of the speeder, mechanical fingers digging in with strength the kiffar normally lacked. Resolve shot into his other hand, the verdant saber surged to life just in time to deflect a well-placed bolt. The others zipped past him, the jumpy ride a much bigger factor than Ryv's skill with either the saber or the Force.

"I am legally obligated to tell yo-" Ryv started, only to stop midway and duck beneath another shot. "-you that I am a Jedi! If you don't chill out and pull over, I'm gonna be real pissed off! And you don't want that, man!"

His warning was met by another round of shots. Resolve flicked upward and batted one away, only to chop down and send another back at the shooter. It caught the slaver's hand across the blaster's grip and sent it tumbling down into the street. Now without his weapon, the rhodian pushed his way back inside the ride.

Ryv returned Resolve to his belt and inched his way further up the speeder. Midway there, it lurched to the side and cut a sharp turn. He found his strength tested as he clung to it for dear life, fingers dug in and holding tight. The rest of his body flailed out as he lacked any real foothold. The speeder took another sharp turn, this time opposite the first. The momentum carried Ryv back into the ship's surface with a violent crash. His breath exploded from his lungs on impact. His entire book trembled as exhaustion and pain assaulted his body.

By the third turn, he couldn't do it any longer. His fingers ached and what handhold he found was no wider than an inch. He lost his grip and soared through the air, crashing into a large stall. His body slammed into one side of the wooden structure, burst through it, and hit the ground on the other side. He rolled several feet before his tumultuous trip slid to a grinding halt.

"Ahhh..." Ryv groaned, his entire body aflame. His pain and frustration leaked out of him. The intensity of it permeated the air, the raw emotion a beacon within the Force.

 

[Hal Vaiken]

G.A Frigate - Peacemaker, Hangar
Objective III
Teica Giraan | Nadira

G E A R _ J A M M E R
​

"<You're clear for launch, good luck>"

"<Yeah, thanks.>" came Tycho's reply.

The Jedi and a band of marines of the Peacemaker launched the boarding shuttle at the pirate ship. The rattling of the vessel reminded him of a thousand and one boardings he'd been in as a pirate once, along with Nadira. Torches made quick work of the hostile ship, depressurized and the slab of durasteel fell outwards unleashing the boarders with Tycho at the front. A blast of his sawed-off devastated the head of the first pirate he saw.

"Where you at, ya dirty schutta?!"

 

[Faith Organa]

Location: With the Chancellor and Diplomatic envoys
Tags: Brama Tagge | Olen Halcorr

Faith had remained away from the Chancellor and the other Senators, not because she was being antisocial but because she had to deal with issues at home on Alderaan. Somehow raiders had slipped through the patrols and planetary defenses landing on Alderaan new the Alde lands and raiding the phrik mines. No one had been killed but many were hurt.

She would need to meet with Andien Gale to see if she could make recommendations, and with the Alderaan Navy about the patrols. Phrik was one of those commodities that Alderaan had that they were able to export to sustain the programs needed by the Alderaan and the Galaxy. Sanctuary City provided jobs, the hospital and college provided education and jobs, the museum which was still being rebuilt housed their culture....and the list could go on and on.

It wasn't until they had landed and the group moved to meet with their hosts that Faith finally picked her head up and moved with the group. She had to listen to the conversation between Adhira Chandra , Auteme and Seto du Couteau to know their position and their expectations.

 

[Ripley Kühn]

OBJECTIVE 2
TAGS: Ryv

The bike beneath Ripley shook ever so slightly as it raced down the road. Though their coordinator was missing in action, the civilians in the area had taken it upon themselves to get out of dodge it would seem, leaving nothing but a ghost town behind them. It was eerily quiet, the force a peaceful river with no life around to disturb it. In a flash, that changed, the still peace transforming into writhing chaos. Pain rippled through the air, catching her off guard. She gasped, trying to push it back out beyond her walls. Her speeder took a sharp turn, following the path in which it was radiating from. As she drew closer, the distress assaulted her senses, harder and harder to block out. When her head felt almost ready to burst from the pressure of it, she spotted the hole in the wall. The speeder came to a screeching halt, and Ripley half jumped, half fell off of it, before sprinting through the opening.

There laid the knight, a mess of blood and dirt staining his clothes. An expression of shock flickered across the zeltrons face at the sight of the mangled kiffar. Dropping to one knee, her hands immediately went for his leg to examine the wounds.

"Mothers moon Ryv, what the hell happened?"

She shook her head, before turning it to meet his eyes.

"Come on, I'll help you to my bike. We need to at least get these cleaned up, or ideally a healer for 'em."

She extended her arm, waiting for him to take it.

 

[Brama Tagge]

ZARDOSSA STIX // SPACEPORT // OBJECTIVE I
EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD
Seto du Couteau // Auteme // Adhira Chandra // Olen Halcorr

“I misspoke, the aggression would definitely not be coming from me, but from someone much more. . . qualified.” “As well to the fact I have little concern for wrinkles-” ​

​

“-It’s been said that our faces are marked by lines of life, put there by laughter, suffering, tears and love. . . quite beautiful if you ask me.” ​

"Such a sweet boy." Brama cooed, nudging her aid in the ribs to get him to nod in agreement as they all seemed to fall in step in the general direction the administrator ushered them in.

"T-THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR AGREEING TO SEE US TODAY, I KNOW YOU ARE VERY BUSY!"
"Uhm... Might - MIGHT THERE BE SOMEWHERE PRIVATE WE COULD DISCUSS THESE MATTERS?"

Fuil looked unbothered by the amplified volume the Chancellor was projecting. To him, it sounded quite normal –– though he could tell by the strain on veins it was the opposite for her. Nevertheless, he appreciated the gesture and nodded.

"Yes well, I assume efficiency is in both our interests." While the starport was busy, he'd organized a landing pad for the ambassadors near his office so the walk wasn't dreadfully long. One of the jumpsuits scurried ahead and pressed open the door to the unimpressive room, and the administrator walked in first.

"Ehm, hmmm," he swished a dollop of something around in his throat and cleared it loudly (which sounded quite silent to him). "What is it my humble port can do for you, Chancellor? This hasn't got anything to do with that nasty Sith Empire business, does it? Our hyperlanes aren't quite as efficient as a takeoff from Empress Teta." It was a subtle flex, and a protective measure, but the man knew his routes.

He also knew (or, at least thought he did -- based on reading it in a book somewhere) not to put his cards on the table first.

"In fact, we've been operating independently for quite some time.

So," He settled into his seat, it creaked in welcome, and he crossed one knee over the other in recline. "What is it you're going to ask of me."

 

[Teica Giraan]

No Apology, No Remorse ​

[Location: G.A Frigate Peacemaker, Bridge]
[Focus: Captain Teica Giraan]
[Objective 3]

Teica watched the viewscreen as a shuttle left the hanger bay, only for it to get lost in the waves of laser fire and flying debris. Oh, how fun. The risks people tended to put themselves through amused her. And her amusement at that idea terrified her. She quickly turned to face the gunnery chief.

"Do we still have torpedoes?" she watched the chief tap a few buttons.

The chief nodded.

"One shot...enemy bridge," she kept a tone void of emotion.

Teica turned back to face the viewscreen. She watched the torpedoes dash out at an enemy freighter. For a split second, she had herself in the enemy bridge. She stared out from their windows, and at the cylindrical projectile charging forward. She continued to stare as the torpedo went off. Teica felt the pain of each crew member as they were engulfed in flames. Yet she had no regret for the order. She returned to her seat, sitting in the hidden bridge of the Peacemaker. Her hands grasped the arms of her chair. Cold air flowed in through her nose.

"Confirm hit."

"Hit confirmed, ma'am," the sensory officer replied.

Teica stared at the viewscreen. Her eyes fell on the scattered debris of her victim. But it was only a fleeing glance, her eyes instead dashed to the pirate ship firing at the Peacemaker. The bridge shook, and she turned to the officer running the shielding systems.

"Shields are down, captain!" the officer yelled.

The ship shook again. Teica held onto the chair with all she had. She bit her tongue.

"Full power to engines, pull us out."

The frigate dashed from the danger of the battle, and into the relative safety of the main escort group.


---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"When diplomacy fails, there's only one alternative: violence. Force must be applied without apology."

--Captain Kathryn Janeway​

 

[Takui]

Objective I, Post I

​

"Clear the way!"

A gurney raced through the hallway. On every side, attending doctors and surgical consults finalized tests. "Get him under, fast," the instructions were so fast. Everything was disjointed. Oblivion loomed. "Septic shock. His gastrointestinal tract is virtually gone. Scrub in, we need to cut away the dead tissue and get his digestive tract diverted."

Nearby, Taku heard running water. It sounded like the river back on Kashyyyk. He wasn't on Kashyyyk... was he?

"Scalpel!"

Blacks, whites, light and nothingness bled together as his consciousness faded. "Someone get the lab working. We need some blood tests run, I need to call up the right organs. His stomach... Luke Fething Skywalker."

When the woman glanced up at the readouts, she sucked in a breath. "I hate operating on Jedi," she muttered quietly.

"I've got the Bacta," came a call from behind her.

"Fantastic, hook him up to the drip. His body is shutting down fast. We need to pull him back before he crashes." Lucina Malvec had served faithfully for years, but many of their staff now were green, fresh out of the University of Courscant. She glanced back at them. "Hurry?"

"Oh, uh, right!" the younger woman rushed over to the IV and plugged in the new line. The saline flow stopped, and a moment later the pinkish red fluid slowly flowed into Takui's veins. "What should I tell the Jedi who wanted to check on him?"

"When he's stable, not a moment before. If anyone interrupts us right now, this kid is dead."

 

[Alex Locke]

//: E V A C U A T I O N //:
//: Zaavik Perl //: Ripley Kühn //:
//: V A N G U A R D //:

​

Alex dropped the back hatch and looked into the compartment the bantha would be loaded into. She was aware that the fit would be tight, but it was the best she could do on short notice. Looking back towards Zaavik, she chuckled nervously as he greeted her, and she tried to figure out what Allyson had done to this guy for him to remember her. As much as she adored her cousin, the Corellian always seemed to find her way to do something to someone.​

​

“Uhhh,” Alex rubbed the back of her neck as she tried to think of some sort of excuse. He already knew her last name; she had foolishly reported it before finding out if he knew Allyson. Sighing softly, she nodded and slumped her shoulders. “Yes, we’re related. She’s my cousin.” Alex glanced away as she wondered about how to push forward. There was a curiosity about what had happened.​

​

A sheepish smile spread across her face as she looked at Zaavik, “So what did she do to you? Break your heart? Steal your girl? Get you arrested while making you think you were just going to see a holofilm?” Those were typically the reasons why someone knew Allyson. The woman was a terrible flirt and found herself in situations that ended up with a broken heart - either hers or the person she had run into. “I’m really sorry for whatever she did.” Looking around Zaavik, she noticed the farmer and nodded. “Er, we should help him and uh, maybe get some hay and stuff to make the bantha more comfortable.”​

 

[Ryv]

S W O R D _ O F _ T H E _ J E D I
GALACTIC ALLIANCE
NEW JEDI ORDER
OUT OF THE LINE OF FIRE
TAGS: Ripley Kühn
ARMOR | LIGHTSABER

POLARIZE
​

Ryv groaned and rolled over onto his side. His left shoulder flared with an agony he couldn't ignore. His knees were slick with crimson blood, the fabric around them stained its dark color. He attempted to stand but found his body unresponsive, whatever pain he endured now crippling as he tried to fight his way back up. Shakily he reached out, and his right hand narrowly found purchase on bits of ruined wood. He held tight and pulled himself towards another stall. Every inch of his body screamed out in protest. He knew he shouldn't be moving, at least not after being launched through a wall from a speeder midturn, but it didn't matter. His gloved hand found the top of a nearby table as a speeder-bike ground to a halt opposite the building he traveled through.

"Never lucky," he coughed up a bit of blood and reached down for Resolve. The Jedi Knight took a deep breath and positioned himself to at least face whoever came through the door. Thankfully, he didn't have to worry. His grip on the lightsaber slackened as a wave of concern washed over him. The empath chuckled for a split-second, only to groan out once more as his body heaved from the exertion.

"Hey, Ripley," he greeted her with a half-assed smile. "I'm alright, just had a bit of an accident, is all."

Pink fingers reached out for him. They hung close enough for Ryv to take. Slowly he managed to work his hand up from the floor to take hers, though his grip lacked enough strength to bear his weight alone. With her help, he managed to get back up and onto his feet. He momentarily leaned back against the table and sat.

"Ran into a nasty group of gangsters. Work for a Hutt I have a bit of a history with," he took stock of the many injuries. Most of them were superficial. Torn or bruised flesh made to feel worse from a mixture of shock and exhaustion. Only his limp left arm concerned him. "I think this is dislocated."

He pushed up from the table and set a hand atop Ripley's shoulder to steady himself. Ryv directed her towards another nearby building and pressed a hand against its smooth surface. Without saying anything, the Jedi Knight leaned forward and slammed his left shoulder into the corner of the home. His back arched immediately, his head thrown back, mouth momentarily agape before he bit back a howl of pain. He dropped his head forward and rested his forehead against the structure. His right hand slipped down, fingers intertwined with hers.

"Alright, I-" he took a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm good. Ah, man, that hurt."

He flipped and pressed his back against the wall. "Sorry about that. I stumbled upon something not-so-great, time-sensitive, thought I'd get to it before it was too late. Turns out hanging onto a moving speeder isn't as easy as the holo-flicks make it out to be."

Ryv laughed again, uninterrupted by the pain this time. "Alright, I'm in a lot of pain. I'm not going to find them on my own, Ripley, so I'm going to need your help. I dunno how experienced you are with the Force, but at this point, lives are at stake. A lot of em. Slavers got a damn warehouse full of innocents on their way to cattle pens somewhere out in the galaxy. If we can't find em now, we're gonna lose em. Won't be able to track wherever they went once they've put several hundred lightyears between Zardossa Strix and them."

His mind expanded beyond its typical boundary with a deep breath preceding it. His eyes closed. The Jedi Knight stepped beyond his body and traversed the metaphysical all around them. Though he needn't travel far, the sensations as he moved through the endless empyrean still felt entirely alien. The warmth of Ashla's light embraced him, while Bogan's shadow crept up from just out of sight. Never could he find one without the other. Even beneath the iridescence of a light aligned nexus, the shadow always readied itself to pounce. And at that moment, his body wracked with pain, Ryv knew how precarious his position truly was. He needed help. It was time to put his faith in those who trusted him.

His mind-melded with hers. A stream of emotion blended with Ripley's as his urgency, pain, frustration, and hope encompassed her consciousness. He felt her concern and rage, its ebb and flow not unlike those locked away from the world, trapped in their nightmare. As distress bubbled to the forefront of her mind, he aimed to quiet it with silent affirmation. He would be okay. He'd survived worse; they both knew that.

Elsewhere, a blotch of inky blackness wove through the world. It left a cold path in its wake as it raced further and further from them.

When Ryv's eyes opened, he found himself staring into the deep cobalt of the Zeltron's gaze, his forehead gently pressed against her own.

"Do you think you can follow that trail, Ripley? We can't let them get away," Ryv smiled, the answer already known to him.

Ripley Kühn ​

 

[Ripley Kühn]

Objective 2
Tags: Ryv

The cry he let out as the shoulder was put back in its rightful place was one she hoped she'd never have to hear leave his lips again. She squeezed his hand when it came into her grip, hoping to offer up any bit of comfort she could. The zeltron shook her head at the mention of the speeder, lips pursed in a disapproving frown, the emboldened reckless of his actions nearing the line of sheer stupidity.

"Alright, I'm in a lot of pain. I'm not going to find them on my own, Ripley, so I'm going to need your help. I dunno how experienced you are with the Force, but at this point, lives are at stake. A lot of em. Slavers got a damn warehouse full of innocents on their way to cattle pens somewhere out in the galaxy. If we can't find em now, we're gonna lose em. Won't be able to track wherever they went once they've put several hundred lightyears between Zardossa Strix and them."

Before she was ready, his mind touched hers, the resounding force of a sweeping river carrying all he felt echoing throughout her body. She then understood the fervor of his earlier choices, the need to help the powerless more important than anything else, even his own safety. When her own thoughts were calmed, she picked up the signature he had found, one of the most bizarre things she had ever felt.

Coming away from the meld, her gaze firmly locked onto his, the knight nodded ever so slightly. A fierce look of determination had replaced the soft expression she normally held.

"Let's get those bastards."

The speeder tore through the streets, the zeltron wishing she could will it to go faster. The cold had finally stopped moving, but that meant there could only be minutes left before they were loaded and shipped off-world. The bike beneath the pair was shaking, pushed to its max, but she couldn't slow. Not with what was at risk. The kiffar's arms around her waist threatened to distract her, but she kept pulling her mind back in, focusing. Waiting for the moment that dot disappeared from her mind. Thankfully, it kept growing closer and closer instead of the slow fade she expected, until finally, a landing pad came into view, off in the distance.

"There!" She shouted over the noise.

When they reached their destination, the speeder was brought to another rough halt. Her leg quickly slung over to the other side, taking her weight as she stood. The knight reached for the saber on her hip, the cold hilt a comfort in her hand, activating it as she let it fall to her side. She looked back to Ryv, finding his amber eyes. The concern she had was still there, but she didn't have the time to convince him she could handle it alone. After one final stolen glance, she took off in a sprint towards the cold that had guided her earlier, much stronger now that they were upon it.

 

[Olen Halcorr]

​

Objective I: Short Negotiations
Location: Main Port, Zardossa Stix
Equipment: X-Wing
Unit: Diplomatic Envoy Detachment
Job: Advise and Consult on Military Matters
Tags:
Adhira Chandra Auteme Seto du Couteau

​

"Me neither, didn't have enough time to pop into the mess hall and grab myself so much as a proteinloaf before coming." He replied, joining in with the chuckle.

Olen displayed an intrigued look as she relayed her titles. A Jedi Knight huh. He wasn't very good with Jedi ranks and always managed to call Knights, Padawans and the other way round. It was becoming embarrassing, however, he didn't fret about it. She seemed to have dressed much smarter than him with her flowing emerald dress. "Good to meet you Knight Auteme, Representative of the New Jedi Order, nice title, rolls off the tongue."

"You're probably wondering who I am. Commander Olen Halcorr, Phantom Leader, looks like I'm a Military Consultant today. Strategic Intelligence has enlisted my expertise, but I'm not sure which expertise they had in mind."

The veteran starfighter pilot raised a questioning eyebrow as their host hobbled over to meet with them. Surprisingly, the Port Administrator did not display that air of authority that the Chancellor did. He gave a nod, out of respect as the man addressed them. He followed on with the crowd, wondering what angle the Port Authority would take.

He stood to the back of the room, not wishing to take the limelight away from any of the Senators who'd be doing much of the negotiating. "Other than a few politics classes at the Academy, not much I guess, perhaps I'll get some here. I'm usually watching the politics on the holos, I see you talk. You're a very good speaker." Even though he wasn't too keen on politics, or politicians, he did enjoy the speeches. It was almost like entertainment, dangerous entertainment to say the least.