Public Night At The Museum

[Domina Prime]

OOC

Alicio Organa | Jonyna Si | Mavo Cortuga | Arabella Olivarius | Sig Dryggo | Laphisto | Ko Vuto | Braze​

They came from every corner of the galaxy now as the sun sunk into the horizon and turned the skies of Hosnian Prime into twilight. A well dressed man stood before a bustling crowd of high society types wrapped in their expensive silks and radiant jewels. "Ladies & Gentleman, i would like to extend a warm and heartfelt welcome to each and every one of you for making the long journey to this special little event we've organized for you. Prepare yourselves for an evening that promises to be nothing short of legendary, an event that will be etched into your memory! We hope that you keep your minds and hearts open during the event! As well as your wallets~" He quipped lastly, lifting a glass to the audience as the affluent individuals giggled and chuckled at the joke clearly aimed at potential investors and sponsors of the institute.

"Tonight, as we proudly unveil the Jedi Historical Institute. This sanctuary of wisdom and wonder is dedicated to preserving the essence of a time long past, yet eternally influential. Here, we have gathered some of the most revered artifacts, mesmerizing paintings, and ancient relics that tell the grand tale of the galaxy and the selflessness of the Jedi Spirit—a tale that has indelibly shaped our universe." He continued, gesturing towards the massive doors of the building as they slowly shifted open.

The glittering lights overhead cast a warm, ethereal glow over the lobby as the audience was finally allowed inside to attend the party. The soft, harmonious notes of an orchestral symphony fill the air, creating an atmosphere of serenity and grandeur. The distinguished guests, attired in their finest evening wear, move gracefully around the hall, their conversations blending into an elegant symphony of curiosity and admiration. They mingle and marvel at the treasures on display, each artifact and painting more captivating than the last.

It was quite the extraordinary scene! Plentiful trays of exquisite delicacies circulating among the lobby and other rooms. The tantalizing aromas and the sight of these gourmet creations are enough to make the mouth water! Truly, no expense was spared for this grand opening. At the same time, the gentle clinking of champagne glasses can be heard, a melodious accompaniment to the oohs and aahs of awe and appreciation. The ambiance, rich and refined, is one of both elegance and fascination, a perfect harmony of sophistication and intrigue.

It did not take very long for the esteemed organizer of the event will approach the podium once the affluent guest became settled, had some drink in them, and were easier to address. Ready to grace us with words of heartfelt gratitude. "This evening, we are joined by esteemed individuals who have journeyed from near and far, braving the vast expanse of the galaxy, to witness this grand opening. As we gather here tonight, we do so not only to celebrate the past but to pay homage to the indomitable spirit of justice. Our struggles alongside the Jedi, who have guarded against the dark with unwavering courage! Their legacy, marked by bravery and wisdom, continues to inspire and guide us all." The Organizer twisted his head towards the handful of Jedi who had managed to attend the event. Gesturing towards them with an arm and giving a polite bow.

"And so, as we embark on this unforgettable evening, let us open our hearts and minds to the wonders that lie ahead. Let us honor the past, celebrate the present, and look forward to a prosperous future. And to our guest, please...try not to get TOO drunk~" He joked. Leaving the podium following a small round of applause.

​

The hangar hummed with activity as a dozen Mandalorians in gleaming beskar armor prepared their weapons and equipment for the coming operations. Domina Prime stood at the center, twirling a short blade in one of her four arms passively, surveying the scene with steely determination. Five alien eyes shifting and dilating in focus as the beast of a creature chittered lowly in anticipation.

"Double Check those jets~" she barked, her voice carrying across the cavernous space. "Would be a shame if we lost someone due to 'malfunctions' yes?~" She quipped, mainly referring to the younger, perhaps less experienced Mandalorians.

Nearby, two warriors were loading crates of thermal detonators onto a sleek assault shuttle. Another group huddled around a holographic display of the Jedi Historical Institute, plotting entry points and discussing contingencies and the like.

A grizzled veteran named Torvak approached Domina with a datapad.

"The latest intel just came in," Torvak said, his voice gravelly through his helmet's modulator. "The Event started around two hours ago and they've doubled the guard rotation since our last recon. And there are signs of Jedi attending the party~" Torvak informed smoothly.

Domina's eyes narrowed as she scanned the datapad. Sucking through her teeth and handing the pad back off to him. "Irrelevant. Just more lambs for slaughter~." She scoffed, partially rolling her eyes from behind her mask.

He nodded briefly.

"The schematics of the vault are also finalized," Torvak added, his scarred face grim. "But the artifact's exact location is still unknown."

Domina grimaced from behind her Mandalorian Mask, dragging her claws across it in slight She handed the device back to Torvak and strode towards the assembled warriors, her footsteps echoing in the momentary hush that fell over the hangar.

"Brothers and sisters," Domina called out, her voice ringing with authority as she removed her hat and dragged those azure claws through her mane of hair. "Today, we reclaim a piece of our heritage. And i would like to thank you all who showed up to reclaim a small piece of our brithright. The Key still exists, while the Darksaber remains lost to us and the Mask of Mandalore has all been but lost to us The Key is more than just a relic— It's a chance. A chance our people no longer have to daydream and fantasize of who we once were…but who we can be again." The towering xeno confided in her kin, inhaling deeply before gesturing to the Mandalorians by placing one of her clawed hands over where her heart would be. "But enough of that touchy feely shit!" She barked with a devilish cackle.

"Alright boys~" She slipped her hat back onto her head. Adjusting it slightly to align it with her Mandalorian Mask before the hanger doors slowly began to open. "Let's get evil."

The Operation was on.

 

[Laphisto]

Location: Jedi Historical Institute, Hosnian Prime
Objective: Quiet Observation, Relaying Intel for Heist

The soft murmur of the guests, the clinking of glasses, and the occasional laughter filled the grand hall. But to Laphisto, these sounds faded into the background as he moved among the displays. Every step he took brought him closer to pieces of his past, fragments of his life that now rested behind glass as mere curiosities for the wealthy and ignorant to gawk at. The weight of old battles, long-forgotten wars, and lives lost pressed down on him like a storm cloud, his heart heavy with each relic he encountered.

The first display that caught his attention was a torn and scorched Jedi robe. He stopped in his tracks, his breath catching in his throat. Aelo Drin. The name was like a blade to his chest. Aelo had been a Jedi Knight, someone Laphisto had fought beside in the Great Sith War. They had been equals, comrades in the thick of battle, both standing against the darkness that had threatened to consume the galaxy. Aelo had been a fierce fighter, but more than that, he had been a friend.

Laphisto remembered the day Aelo fell. They had been defending a strategic outpost on Onderon, fighting against an overwhelming wave of Sith forces. Aelo had led the charge, his lightsaber blazing as he cut down enemy after enemy. Laphisto had been right beside him, their movements in perfect sync. But then, a flash of red—a Sith warrior came from the flank, striking Aelo down with a brutal blow to the chest. Laphisto had turned just in time to see his friend fall, the life draining from his eyes. He had fought desperately to reach him, cutting down the Sith, but it had been too late. Aelo's final breath had been spent, and all Laphisto could do was hold him as the battle raged on around them.

Seeing Aelo's robe now, charred and torn, displayed like a forgotten artifact, felt like a deep betrayal. This was a man who had given his life for the galaxy, and now he was reduced to nothing more than a footnote in history. Laphisto's heart twisted with grief, and he forced himself to look away.

He moved on, though his steps were slower now, weighed down by the memories threatening to overwhelm him. His eyes were drawn next to a shattered helmet, the Republic insignia still faintly visible through the battle scars. It had belonged to Commander Vara Tallis, a brilliant tactician from the Hyperspace War. She had been one of the few non-Jedi Laphisto had truly respected as an equal in battle. Together, they had fought back the Sith forces at the edge of known space, holding the line in what felt like a never-ending war.

Vara had been calm, collected, and always three steps ahead of the enemy. Laphisto had learned to trust her instincts unquestionably. But even the greatest tacticians could not predict every outcome. Laphisto could still remember the ambush that claimed her life. They had been leading a strike team deep into Sith territory when their position had been compromised. Sith forces had descended upon them from all sides, and though Vara had fought valiantly, she had been caught in a barrage of blaster fire that overwhelmed her. Laphisto had fought desperately to reach her, cutting through wave after wave of enemies, but by the time he reached her, all that remained was her shattered helmet. Holding it in his hands had been a cruel reminder that even the strongest could fall.

Now, seeing it behind glass, polished and clean, devoid of the blood and grit of war, made his stomach turn. This was not how Vara should be remembered. She had been a warrior, a leader, and a friend. Her helmet didn't belong in a display case—it belonged on the battlefield, where it had earned its scars.

His heart felt heavier with each step, but he forced himself to keep moving. He needed to see this through.

His gaze fell on a pair of vambraces next, the intricate carvings immediately recognizable. Jana Kai. She had been a Padawan during the Mandalorian Wars, young and full of fire. Laphisto had taken her under his wing, not as a formal master, but as a kind of big brother figure. He had seen so much potential in her, and she had looked up to him, always eager to learn and prove herself in battle. She had been reckless at times, throwing herself into the fight without hesitation, but her spirit had been unbreakable. Laphisto had tried to temper her enthusiasm, teaching her the importance of patience and control, but she had always been a wild force, untamable.

He could still see the moment she fell. They had been in the midst of a brutal skirmish, the Mandalorians pressing hard against their lines. Jana had charged ahead, her lightsaber cutting through the enemy with a ferocity that had been both inspiring and terrifying. Laphisto had called out to her, warning her to fall back, but she hadn't listened. She never listened. A Mandalorian warrior had struck her down with a single brutal strike, her body crumpling to the ground before Laphisto could reach her. He had held her as the light faded from her eyes, her final words a whispered apology for not listening.

The vambraces, once worn proudly on her arms, now sat in a display case, cold and lifeless. The carvings, which had once been a testament to her strength, were now just another curiosity for strangers to admire. Laphisto's vision blurred for a moment as the grief surged through him, but he blinked it away, forcing himself to move on.

Each relic he passed seemed to weigh him down further, each one a reminder of someone he had lost, of battles fought and lives that had been taken. The Great Sith War, the Hyperspace War, the Mandalorian Wars—they had all taken their toll, leaving scars that ran deep within him.

Then, his eyes fell on a familiar piece of armor—a Mandalorian chestplate, dented and scarred from battle. Laphisto's breath hitched as he recognized it immediately. It had belonged to Ris Ordo.

Ris had not been like the other Mandalorians Laphisto had faced in the war. He had been something more—a figure of honor, a man who lived by the code of his people and embodied the best of their warrior culture. Laphisto had encountered Ris many times in battle, and every time, there had been a mutual respect. They had fought each other not out of hatred, but with the unspoken understanding of two warriors testing their limits.

Their final duel had been one of the most intense battles Laphisto had ever experienced. Every strike had been calculated, every move precise. Ris had been unrelenting, his skill unmatched, and in the end, he had bested Laphisto. As was the Mandalorian way, Ris had claimed Laphisto's Force sword as his prize. Laphisto had given it willingly, honoring the tradition and the respect he held for Ris.

But Ris Ordo's end had not come from their duel. It had come later, during one of the final battles of the Mandalorian Wars. Laphisto had been there, fighting alongside him when the chaos of war had claimed Ris's life. The Mandalorian had fallen bravely, defending his people, and Laphisto had made it his duty to return Ris's body to Ordo, the planet that bore his clan's name. The journey had been long and somber, the weight of Ris's death hanging over him as he brought the warrior home to his people.

When Laphisto arrived on Ordo, the Mandalorians accepted Ris's body with honor and reverence. In gratitude for his respect in returning their fallen leader, they had gifted Laphisto the Traycn, Ris Ordo's personal warship, as a token of their appreciation. It had been an unexpected gift, a symbol of the deep respect the Mandalorians held for Laphisto's actions and for the bond he had shared with their leader. The Traycn had become more than just a ship to Laphisto—it was a reminder of the warrior he had respected, and of the responsibility he had carried in returning Ris to his people.

Now, seeing Ris's chestplate here, behind glass, felt like a profound loss. The dents and scars on the armor had once symbolized Ris's strength and the battles he had fought. To see it reduced to a mere artifact, something for strangers to stare at without knowing the man behind the armor, felt wrong. Laphisto had fought beside Ris, had dueled him, had carried him home—and yet, here was the reminder of a life turned into just another relic of a forgotten war.

Laphisto's mind wandered back to that long journey to Ordo, the silence between the stars as he carried the weight of Ris's death. He remembered laying the body to rest, a final act of respect to a warrior who had been more than just an opponent. The chestplate was more than just armor—it had been Ris's legacy, and to see it behind glass, stripped of meaning, filled Laphisto with a deep sense of sorrow.

And then, finally, his eyes landed on the case holding the sword.

His Force sword.

It was pristine, as if it had been forged just yesterday. The edge gleamed under the soft lights, and the Blade still bore the intricate markings of his family—a legacy passed down through generations. This sword had been a part of him, a symbol of his honor and his connection to the Force. But he had lost it in that same duel with Ris Ordo. Ris had taken the sword as his prize, as was Mandalorian custom, and Laphisto had accepted the loss without bitterness. Ris had earned it.

But seeing it here, behind glass, was like a wound reopening. The sword had been more than just a weapon—it had been a part of his identity, a connection to his family and the life he had lived before the wars had torn everything apart. Ris Ordo had carried it with pride, but after his death, the sword had disappeared. And now it was here, far removed from the meaning it had once held, reduced to nothing more than an artifact for people who could never understand its significance.

His comlink buzzed softly, pulling him back to the present. He tapped it, his voice low, barely concealing the emotion that weighed on him.

"Laphisto here. The event is proceeding as expected. Jedi present—four or five. Security is tight, but manageable. Vault entry will require precision."

He hesitated, his gaze locked on the sword, the memories of Ris Ordo and their duel swirling in his mind. He ended the transmission, his heart heavy with the weight of everything he had seen. The relics on display were not just artifacts—they were pieces of his past, of the people he had fought beside, and the lives that had been lost in wars that never seemed to end.

Tonight, he would reclaim a piece of that past. Not because it would change anything, but because it was all he had left of the people who had mattered to him. The galaxy had taken so much from him. But tonight, he would take something back. and for a moment he hesitated before giving a small growl to himself and sending Domina Prime all the data she needed. from sentry postings to the location of mandalorian valuables to even where the fewest guards where located.

 

[Alicio Organa]

Jedi Historical Institute, Hosnian Prime
Leaving the Party
Allies: help pls
Enemies: Domina Prime - Laphisto
​

Alicio didn't know why he was here, yet.

The invitation had come to his aides, likely because of his connections to the Jedi. He'd almost turned it down, like so many of it's kind. Attending a grand opening celebrating the past of an Order he technically wasn't affiliated with wouldn't have usually enticed him away from work, he was a King, the Vice Chancellor of the Alliance... but something had whispered to him in the future, when he'd glanced at the invite. Something dangerous.

It was important he was here. He just had to figure out why.

The first chance the senator got, he slipped away from the party. He wasn't sore for missing it- he didn't like bumping elbows with anyone with jewelry more expensive than some peoples' yearly salaries. Though, he did appreciate the irony, as he quickly stuck on pieces of silver-plated armor, walking further and further away from the festivities. He saved his horned helm for last, which he gently locked into place with a hiss.
He passed by a considerable security force, but it was an easy thing to nudge their minds away from perceiving him. Look over there, that person with the horns is supposed to be here, you see nothing. He did feel a little guilty for doing it... but he didn't exactly have answers to the questions they would ask. He wasn't even sure why he was sneaking around yet.

But something told Alicio he would get his answer soon enough.

 

[Mavo Cortuga]

Among the other new recruits, Mavo bounced on either foot, shaking her head to release the tension building in her neck. She could feel her retinal combat implants humming with a focused energy, sensing her nerves and trying to adjust her sight accordingly. She'd never done something like this before. If she wasn't careful, she wouldn't live to do it again. She released a shaky breath through her nostrils. It was for a good cause--the treasured possession of her mothers and fathers was being held hostage by high society pigs, drowning in their own jewels and fat. No longer.

She thought of what could be. What her people could be. The idea of the Mandalorians of old, with their own castles and armies, not knowing what it was like to starve or struggle to survive... she'd been dreaming about it since she had the sense to. Her father told her stories of triumph and splendor, sabers crafted with shards of the night sky. Mavo dreamt of skies of blue, streaked with ribbons of grey left behind by soaring sisters and brothers. Clan Eldar, her clan, in their prime.

The House Eldar hadn't been in such a state for a long time--they were one of the oldest and most loyal Mandalorian clans, signified by their armors of green and bronze. Mavo was born to two children of Eldar. Her father born into it by blood; her mother a foundling adopted by the clan. They bore a fierce allegiance to their house. They told her that she must be the same way, or she could be the last of her kind. She desperately hoped it wasn't true. On the other hand, she'd never met another child of Eldar. If she died here, the bloodline could very well die with her.

She pushed the worries to the back of her mind. If she really was the last Eldar, then her efforts would still be a testament to her blood. No fear, no retreat.

The biggest threat to the group was the Jedi. A group of witches and sorcerers that preached for good but ignored the cries of her people, protecting the greedy oafs who hoarded their cultural possessions. She loaded her rifle full of slugs. Blaster bolts could be easily deflected by their laser swords; she even heard that they shot at their younglings with blasters as a form of practice. If they tried to deflect these metal projectiles, they'd eat hot, sharp shrapnel.

She heard the go-ahead from Domina Prime. "Evil," as she put it, wasn't at all what Mavo thought they were doing, but that seemed to be where their differences of opinion ended. Mavo took a running start and lept out of the hangar.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: OPEN

Jonyna wasn't here to party. For once, she was here on business. Well, less business more...curiosity.

The idea of a jedi historical institute peaked her interest, as a jedi from an era where the order was basically non-existent. She came to peruse the findings of the new museum. Artifacts she hoped would look familiar to her.

What she found didn't disappoint, even if none of could be truly verified. The fact they had 'Anakin Skywalker's Jedi Starfighter' hanging in the lobby was a tip off to that. Jonyna was sure that thing had long been destroyed by the time she was around. Then again, seeing the sight of 'Yoda's walking stick' in a glass case in the party room was amusing to her. Yoda was a figure she always wondered how would respond to her. A trickster at heart, but one of many, many years.

And yet, Jonyna figured they'd get along.

The Cathar Master was clothed in her usual gear, her coat hiding her normal loadout to fend off anyone that might attack. She could feel it. The tingle of the back of her neck. Something was coming. Something was coming.

The Master Jedi leaned against the balcony she watched the city from. She wanted to see beyond the glitz and glam of the party. She could be in there schmoozing with high class folk, representing her company, or even just talking up herself as a living artifact worthy of being in the museum herself.

But she didn't care for any of that. This wasn't her kind of party. Wasn't her kind of class.

She knew a fight was coming. She could feel it in the air.

She wished Jenn Kryze was here. She wished her lover could be here to guard the party with her, but with everything Jenn had been through on Echnos, she deserved the rest.

The sip of a martini glass was all she had to calm her nerves.

This would be rough. The ballroom was packed, and she couldn't call for an evacuation without president.

All she could do was wait for the shoe to drop.

 

[Arabella Olivarius]

TAG: OPEN
Objective: Protect Relics of the Jedi.
Currently: Observing the outside of the museum
Size of Squad: Four

Arabella's invitation to here had been one of weird circumstance. Officially she wasn't invited. Unofficially, information had come across Arabella's desk back on Mirial that Bogan agents were planning something against the Jedi. The details of said information pointed to this museum of artifacts located deep within Alliance territory. This museum holding alot of relics of the Jedi, the Sith and the Mandalorians. Why the Jedi held artifacts of the Bogan and not destroy them was beyond her. It's a sore spot between the Jedi and the Ashlans. The Ashlans would do anything to see the eradication of the dark side and its followers. The Jedi practiced restraint. Its most likely why despite them both being on the side of Light, the two could never truly get along. As such, its not like Arabella could officially reach out to the Jedi Order and inform of this possible attack. Instead she will here herself to verify the information she had gotten.

As such, Arabella wasn't in the museum but instead inside of a building across from it. She and her small team of Ashlan crusaders had positioned themselves to watch for any signs of an attack. Looking through her binoculars, Arabella gave a sigh. There was nothing as of yet and the event was well underway. She would touch the rosary she had on her wrist muttering a small prayer before continuing her watch. Zooming in and out she watched patrons come in and leave, as her other Ashlans watched the other possible ways of entry. Something was bound to happen tonight. Arabella could sense it.

 

[Aculia Voland]

Location: Jedi Historical Institute, Hosnian Prime.
Objective: Find any relics relating to the Valley of the Jedi, observe quietly and do not cause trouble.

Aculia glanced down, moderately irritated, at the denied entry papers issued by the Galactic Alliance government. It had not stopped her from infiltrating herself and a small team through the rather porous borders left by the fact they were fighting a war on three different fronts, but it smarted a little. She knew she had been gone for a while, but she had tried to maintain at least moderately cordial relations with them as one of the reformists when she had more power over the government, even smoothing over Jonyna Si 's unprovoked attack and attempted murder on one of her officials and cancelling the arrest warrant on her. And this was their response, apparently, a total passport ban, and, as she was finding out since her return, a complete trade freeze.

Are they not overreacting a little bit due to one senator on their side coming on over to us and a few small disputes years ago? Can they really afford to be making even more enemies? Perhaps I shall have to rethink my stance. If they are going to treat us almost the same as the Dark Empire simply for being Imperials and comparatively minor diplomatic slights, maybe we -should- consider drawing closer to the Sith. Not that I like them, but, alas. Anyway, I'm here for one thing and one thing only: all the information I can get on Ruusan.

She knew going in the possibility of Jedi and other powerful Force wielders was high, perhaps even those very skilled in the art of Force Sense, so she had carefully been suppressing her powers and aura since even before her arrival on Hosnian Prime, and considered it lucky it was one of her penultimate skills that only the strongest of the Jedi had a chance of penetrating if they were actively trying. To the vast majority of Jedi, unless she used active Force abilities, she would appear as just a regular non-Force Sensitive. In addition to this, she had her infiltration team work long and hard on modifying her appearance-perfected green contact lenses, hair dyed brown, an excellent application of makeup to make her skin appear darker than its natural ghost white, even lifts for her shoes to change her height by an inch or two. In sum, she looked entirely different than her normal self as well. And, she thought, quite good especially for her age.

Her infiltration team was told to keep more than a fair distance away from the event, comprised of non-Force Sensitives to further keep up the ruse, and ordered to do nothing but wait in the private shuttle for her signal, if one was to ever come. They were instructed to play card games and to keep their focus on that as well. This was to keep their minds off the mission just in the event a wandering Jedi passed by trying to sense their intentions. Paranoid? Maybe, but she had lost a lot by not being paranoid before.

She had bought a middling package to the event (although still pricey) so as to not draw too much attention one way or the other, and brought no weapons, not even any personal defense weapons, sans for what appeared to be a silver walking cane, in truth it being a façade for phrik, but that would not truly be noticed unless she actively tried to fight with it. That was effectively a last resort given her strength lie more in the Force than lightsaber combat. She mixed in with the crowd, nodding, smiling, and laughing at the organizer's stupid jokes, feigning interest in some of the artifacts, appearing to be just another minor noble with her pretty blue dress, put together appearance, and jewelry.

She noticed Laphisto there, envying for a moment the freedom he had to be both an "ally" of the Empire of the Lost and still being allowed to be in GA space. How had he gotten his passport approved? It was a question she was going to ask him later after the event in safer space. She watched him curiously, however, due to his various facial expressions as he looked at the exhibits, passively monitoring him through the Force. It was not her strongest area, but she was still fairly skilled at it, so although she could not tell what he was thinking exactly, she felt pain and loss. Interesting-she knew he had been long lived, but could some of these artifacts actually be from people he knew? That must hurt.

At any rate, a curiosity though he was, that was not what she was here for. She was here for any information about Ruusan and the Valley of the Jedi. Rumors were it were possible to artificially imbue or enhance the natural force powers of a person who stepped into the Valley, even all these centuries later, but the location had been either lost or was a well-kept secret-even her archives on Ossus only mentioned it sparingly. What truth lie to that-or how much of the power remained-she needed to know. If it could take someone who had no real connection to the Force and even upgrade them to a decent sensitivity...the possibilities for the Empress and her son were endless. If. For now, she would keep looking without drawing too much attention to herself. She was not looking for a fight today.

 

[Ko Vuto]

​

Location: Hosnian Prime, Jedi Historical Institute
Attire: X
Tag(s): TBA

Ko was never the biggest at large social gatherings. But this was the kind of low intensity thing that he was kinda stuck with. The effort he gave back on Teris recently ended up causing his wounds to get a little infected. Causing his recovery to backslide some.

Currently Ko was in one of the refreshers within the building. A little alarm on his analog wrist watch reminded him what he needed to do to maintain a steady recovery. Although at this point he’d basically gotten through it. He just needed to do a bit of redundant care to be fully done. He was in one of the stalls with his suit jacket and shirt removed so he gently applied a light spray of bacta over his wound. Coating it fully from his waist up along the side of his toros where he’d been most hurt. After Which he applied some patches to help it settle in.

Throwing on his shirt, jacket and tying his tie he exited the stall to thoroughly wash his clawed hands of the blue medicine that had gotten on them. Returning to the museum proper, Kel Dor thought some more about what was going on. Concluding to himself that it was largely a good thing. Although not of the utmost importance, he thought it was best for the Jedi to seem visible and present in the galaxy. Not just some mysterious occult order of wizards. Out of touch with reality like it has been perceived many times before. Although he didn’t particularly care much about celebrating the Jedi and the order.

Even if doing so in a rather fancy pants establishment with fancy pants people wasn’t what he considered to be the most ideal way of going about things. But if you wanna win over hearts and minds it might be best to do so first with the people who had the opportunity and influence to best make a change. Ko accepted this as a compromise. Maybe he just felt that way since anytime he found himself in a suit he felt out of his comfort zone.​

​

 

[Elim Thorne]

Jedi Historical Institute, Hosnian Prime
Edge of the Crowd
Tag: OPEN

Elim Thorne sipped delicately at his drink as he wandered through the exhibits, wondering idly where the Institute had gotten their hands on some of these items. Cleaned up and gracefully lit on protected, encased pedestals, the items on display were presented as pieces of history: the honor and nobility of warriors made manifest. How many of the people peering at the showcase truly understood that these pieces of armor, tattered robes and flags, weaponry and gear, - how many of the curious onlookers realized that these had been looted from the battlefield by scavengers and opportunists? They'd been sold to the Jedi historians because the Jedi had the best resources to pay the highest price. Of course, the people who came to spectate and coo over the honor and glory of war often understood little about the actual brutality of such conflicts.

These relics still remembered, though. The presence of that memory was intense here, gathered all into one building. He could feel it in the air, like the charge before a storm. Shadows of light flickered over many of the objects, wavering at the edge of his vision, sending waves of pride or resentment or grief out into the room. He tried not to show that he noticed. Making eye contact with the living was enough to invite a conversation. Do it with ghosts or echoes, and they suddenly had an agenda. He was here to make new connections and shore up some old ones, maybe find a job or some new opportunities. Knowing how things usually went, there was a good chance he would get side-tracked... but there were too many lost souls here, too much need for one man to answer. Not to mention, his reputation could hardly bear something like a museum heist at the moment. He slid on his glasses and let the colors drown out the echoes. The presence of the objects faded slightly, blurring into the background hum of the event.

Then, suddenly, a spike of recognition cut through the fog. He turned, half expecting to see someone he knew, but the sensation had come from one of the displays. He stared at the back of the case, trying to remember what it held. A sword? Yes, that was it. One in remarkably good condition. It was practically vibrating now. Some distance away, an imposingly tall man with draconian features seemed momentarily transfixed by the display, before reluctantly turning to mutter into a comlink. Thorne raised an eyebrow, angling his glasses slightly downward to peer at the man. The green scales and armor faded into an obscure yellow-brown, but the sense of belonging between the man and the sword was unmistakable.

He tipped the glasses back up and made his way to a nearby pillar, convenient for leaning against. Tonight was looking like it might be more interesting than he had supposed...

Laphisto

 

[Valor the Forsaken]

TAGS: Ko Vuto

Valor had never been to a museum before—at least, not a real one. Tonight, he found himself outside in the grand hall, watching over his Master while Ko attended to his own matters.

Valor followed silently behind, his steps light and graceful. He was dressed in a fine satin hanfu, its deep blue tones and silver accents shimmering under the soft museum lights. His gaze wandered, quietly absorbing the sights and sounds around him—the gleam of priceless artifacts, the soft murmur of refined conversation.

"Master Ko, are you feeling alright?" he asked in a hushed, respectful tone, careful not to draw undue attention as they moved through the event.

 

[Domina Prime]

​

That's Why I'm Out of Here Baby
Before These Clowns Put Me Down In The Ground Baby
I'll Be Runnin Till I'm Out of This Town Baby
You Wan't Your Money Back? Chase Me~
​

ALLIES: Mavo Cortuga | Laphisto | Sig Dryggo

ENEMIES: Jonyna Si | Ko Vuto | Valor the Forsaken | Elim Thorne | Arabella Olivarius | Aculia Voland | Alicio Organa

LOCATION: Hosnian Prime, Crashing The Gala
ATTIRE: Primes Beskar'gam
OBJECTIVE: Collect The Secrets of The Institute

​

The Jedi Historical Institute wasn't just a fortress of ancient wisdom; it was the ultimate intersection of prestige and heritage beyond imagination. Majestic halls hum with the lore of the Jedi Order, drawing in high society, eager to immerse themselves in this world of relics and reverence. And beneath the surface of this glamorous parade lies a story of conflict and strife. A plot is brewing that will shake the institute to its core.

Each Mandalorian shuffled out the shuttle tactically under the cover of darkness as their vehicle remained near the bottom levels of the institute while the gala continued on towards the top of the building. Domina waited for them to exit the shuttle, snapping her claws and whistling lowly to Torvak as he held the shoulder of a squadmate and stacked up near the wall.

"Yasha, your up~" Torvak ordered with a gesture of his hand, causing one of the Mandos stacked at the back of the group to jaunt up to the wall and put some kind of device up to the wall, scanning it properly before then whipping out a plasma torch and melting through the wall while others gathered the explosives. "We got things down here Domina, head topside and keep 'em off us~" Torvak told the xeno, nodding towards Dima before returning his focus to the institute as they eventually breached the hollow foundations of the building and each soldier vanished in the dark of the hole they had carved into the wall.

"Try not to have too much fun without me now boys~" She cooed teasingly before gesturing to the shuttles pilot and pointing upward. "Alright, we're green. Take us up and drop me off. Prime wants to party baby~" Domina mused while dragging her claws along the pilots shoulders almost…dangerously. "We'll ring you for pickup~" She informed them as their shuttle flew up towards the top of the building. Landing on the pad with the distinguished guest in their fancy suits and dresses as if they belonged as the door swung open and Domina stepped out onto the landing bay. Adjusting her military cap to align properly with her Mandalorian mask before neatly collapsing her lower hands behind her back while the upper arms remained tucked beneath the fabric of her purple cloak.

The party was a glittering spectacle and feast for the young xenos many eyes as Dima found herself quickly enamored by the brilliance of it all. Stars seemed to have descended into chandeliers, mingling with the heady fragrance of exotic feasts. Lavishly dressed guests wandered through the displays, eyes wide with admiration for lightsabers, holocrons, and ancient Jedi relics. Senators, traders, and power players thronged the marble floors, caught in the spell of history's grandeur.

Little did they know that underneath the elegance, a storm was gathering, ready to thunder through their night of revelry.

Domina Prime's plan was equal parts brilliance and audacity. She aimed to be the puppeteer of chaos while the guests remained mesmerized by the exhibits. A grand display of turmoil would lure the guards away, granting the team below the perfect window to plunge into the museum's depths, where their ancestral treasures awaited.

And as she entered the Gala many eyes drifted towards the towering xeno adorned in armor while everyone else was dressed in their finest.

Suddenly, the museum was enveloped in darkness as the lights flickers and the building rattled from its foundations.

They must have been in position to kill power and security as the emergency lights flicked on and consumed the room with a crimson hue of light. The air buzzed with panic. Guests collided, gasps mixed with the clinking of shattered glass filling the room as the music from the symphony cut itself short.

Dominas gaze shifted from display to display as she took her claws and dragged them across the glass of each display and like nails against a chalkboard caused an excruciating screech to fill the air as if snapping the lambs out of their panicked state.

"Mmn, what's wrong? Don't stop the party now, we're only just getting started!" She sang aloud, chuckling impishly as her five eyes locked onto the organizer who quickly tried to calm his high society guest from doing anything reckless.

"Security!" He barked aloud, pointing his finger directly at the lone Mandalorian in the crowd. "I don't know why you are here Mandalorian, but I would suggest you leave~" The Organizer warned while hiding behind the audience and guards with guns. Dima scoffed behind her mask and lifted all four of her arms in a feign of surrender.

"Ohhhhh hush you. Ya know why i'm here. You have something that belongs to Prime~ So gonna need a little more than just a suggestion from a sheep!" She snapped back sassily. "And somethin tells me you aren't gonna give me what is mine...so i'm gonna have to just take it~"

The organizer glanced at the many Jedi who had attended the event. His eyes shifted to Jonyna Si , Ko Vuto , and Alicio Organa before refocusing his sights on Dima.

"Your reputation precedes you Prime…but unfortunately for you i brought a lot of friends~"

Five alien eyes darted about the room and examining the many individuals attending the event. Licking her lips from behind her mask and using that massive tail of hers to just…shove over one of the displays and causing Yodas Walking Stick display to CRASH onto the floor in a dozen pieces.

"Oh ho ho so i FINALLY have a reputation huh? Well if that's true then you already should've known…that ya should've brought a lot more. No fun watching your friends die, yes?" Domina chittered daringly, turning her head towards the orcastreal band who had ceased their lovely music. "Psst, hey, it's gonna get goooooooood. Play somethin with a little bit of ummmmm, mmmm…bounce to it yeah?" The infiltrator requested. Each of the bandmates holding an instrument exchanged awkward looks before looking to the organizer and his security for some kind of approval.

"Do NOT do that. She was just lea-"

"ShhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhutTHEFUCKup please, thank you, kisses, mwah~" She snapped over his orders, causing the musicians to carefully weigh their options as dima gestured for them to go ahead and begin before they shrugged at one another and proceeded to begin playing some more…upbeat tunes for the event. Making the organizer frown deeply whereas Dima had a big, satisfied grin plastered across her face behind her mask. "Mmnf, now that's nice reeeeeeeeeeal nice. Don't stop, i like the way you boys lay a smooth beat down~" She complimented them enthusiastically.

The Organizer of the event and owner of the institute was none too pleased with how this was unfolding.

"What is everyone standing around for?! Someone do something!" He roared angrily.

Domina clapped her four hands together in unison at the outburst. "YES! Someone PLEASE do ANYTHING! After all~" She waved her arms about, showing she had no firearms or weapons on her. "Nothing up my sleeves~"

 

[Laphisto]

Location: Jedi Historical Institute, Hosnian Prime
Objective: Run "security" for the event


As the lights flickered out, plunging the Jedi Historical Institute into an eerie crimson darkness, the first wave of panic surged through the room. Guests gasped, the once-harmonious atmosphere of the gala shattered by confusion. The emergency lights buzzed to life, casting the hall in a blood-red hue, drenching the faces of the elite and scattering shadows across the ancient relics. Chaos was brewing—and that's exactly what Laphisto needed.

Standing tall, Laphisto's eyes cut through the gloom a teal of blue flashign over his eyes as he peered out through the force. The guests' panic rippled outward, but his mind remained razor-sharp. Everything was moving as planned. Domina Prime had orchestrated the perfect distraction, drawing attention away from the true mission: the retrieval of his past.

He glanced at his three Lilaste soldiers, each clad in the gleaming black and silver of the LO-56 MKII armor, blending effortlessly into the ranks of the panicked security personnel. The guests might see them as mere protectors, but Laphisto knew their real purpose tonight.

"Kaedan, Farlen, Paxis," Laphisto murmured into his comm, his voice barely a growl. "You know the targets: the sword, the vambraces, the robes, the helmet, and the chestplate. Move fast. We need to be in and out before anyone catches on."

The soldiers, each hardened by years of combat, nodded silently, and with a practiced grace, they slipped into the shadows, disappearing into the confusion.

Kaedan, was first to move. His broad frame blended into the dark corners of the hall as he snaked his way toward the sword display. This was no ordinary sword—it was his sword. Laphisto's pulse quickened at the thought of the blade, a relic of his lineage, long lost and now reduced to a museum artifact. The mere sight of it earlier had sent a storm of memories surging through him. Battles fought, comrades fallen, all tied to that weapon. And tonight, it would be his once again.

Laphisto shifted his stance, keeping one eye on the room and the other on his comm. "Kaedan, how close are you?"

"Sword's in hand," Kaedan's calm voice crackled through the channel. he carefully unlatched the case, the display's locking mechanism bypassed with ease. The sword gleamed under the red lights, "Securing it now."

"Move to the robes next," Laphisto instructed, his heart pounding as Kaedan wrapped the sword and secured it inside his pack. So close now.

Meanwhile, Farlen moved with speed and agility rushing down the halls helping to direct civilians to cover. telling them to get to safety.. He slipped through the crowd like a shadow, eyes locked on the vambraces and helmet. The guests were too distracted by Domina's antics to notice the Lilaste soldier nearing the ancient display cases.

after some time a spoke up"Vambraces secure," Farlen reported, his voice a whisper in the comms. He swiftly tucked the vambraces into his pack, the ancient carvings still gleaming under the crimson emergency lights. He reached for the helmet, an artifact once worn by a Republic commander—a relic with stories of its own, ones Laphisto knew all too well.

"Good. Finish up and get back to me," Laphisto ordered, keeping his voice steady even as his excitement grew.

Paxis, , had already reached the chestplate. Carefully extracting the ancient Mandalorian armor, once worn by his respected foe, Ris Ordo. The very sight of it stirred something deep within Laphisto, memories of honor and battle flooding back. Paxis secured the chestplate with practiced ease, already slipping into the shadows.

As Laphisto stood by, keeping the appearance of a security leader maintaining order, his eyes flicked to Domina Prime. Her towering form, all four arms raised in exaggerated mock surrender, her voice dripping with sarcasm and taunts, was drawing every eye in the room. She pushed the elite crowd further into panic, ensuring the Jedi in attendance stayed focused on her outrageous antics.

The tension in the room was palpable, electric, and perfect.

"Kaedan, Farlen, Paxis," Laphisto called quietly over the comms. "Regroup in the main hall. Weapons drawn. Look like reinforcements."

One by one, his soldiers reappeared, moving with the silent precision . Kaedan returned first, his pack now carrying the sword and robes. Farlen slipped in next, helmet and vambraces safely secured. Paxis, bringing up the rear, had the chestplate tucked neatly into his gear. The relics, each one tied to Laphisto's past, were in his possession.

As the three soldiers closed in around Laphisto, they drew their weapons. The sudden show of force was exactly what the crowd needed to see—a team of security enforcers stepping up to control the situation, weapons drawn but not yet firing.

They moved like a well-oiled machine, falling into formation with Laphisto at the center, making it clear to any onlookers that they were here to protect. The tension in the room shifted, the guests' panic subsiding slightly at the sight of the 'reinforcements.'

Domina continued her chaotic display, but now with the Lilaste soldiers standing firm, it gave the impression that the event was back under control. Laphisto's heart raced, but outwardly he was calm, every movement calculated. His sword was secured. The artifacts of his past were safely packed away, ready to leave the building as soon as they could make their exit.

Now, all that remained was to see this night through—Domina would continue her game, and Laphisto would stand with his team, ever the diligent security, until the perfect moment to disappear. all he was here for now was to play his part in this show.

Domina Prime Mavo Cortuga Sig Dryggo Jonyna Si Aculia Voland Elim Thorne Ko Vuto Arabella Olivarius Alicio Organa Valor the Forsaken
[apologies if i missed anyone]

 

[Elim Thorne]

​

Jedi Historical Institute, Hosnian Prime
Edge of the Crowd
Tag: OPEN

As the lights went red and the room was filled with gasps and the tinkle of shattered glass, Elim pressed himself back into the shadows of the column he had been lounging against. A smile flitted across his lips. Tonight would be most interesting, indeed.

He fingered the pearls of his cufflinks as he listened, weighing the situation carefully. Something truly theatrical was happening near the stage area, screeching claws on glass followed by somewhat shaky, if jaunty, music. Here, deeper into the exhibits, forms moved through the darkness, shifting through shadows with a quiet efficiency that stood in sharp contrast to the chaos at the other end of the room.

His back flat against the smooth curve of the stone, he held entirely still, watching the soldier open the sword case and retrieve the item. He heard the faint crackle of coms, discernable only because he was looking for it, but missed the specific message. The tone was one of confirmation, a status report given to someone else - the person truly running the show. Thorne could only imagine it was the towering green figure he had spotted before. For the sword's owner to be here, on the occasion of its theft, was simply too much of a coincidence otherwise. Then again, if he wasn't involved, he'd likely be very interested in information regarding what had happened to it. Either way, Thorne was going to have to learn just who this dragon man was.

He felt, rather than saw, other pieces being lifted, though none with the specificity of the sword. Though the others had strong echoes, the sword had a potency of presence that signified an item imbued with the Force. He couldn't remember what the exhibit's placard had said, but he was determined to find out at the earliest opportunity. That might provide a clue to its owner's identity... though, in truth, IDing a giant green half-dragon man in gleaming armor shouldn't prove too difficult.

For now, best not to draw any attention to himself. Though his droids were back at the ship, he'd brought enough special equipment to make a clean exit from this kind of situation, when the time was right for that... until then, he would wait and see what he could turn to his advantage.

 

[Aculia Voland]

Aculia knew as soon as the lights dropped that something was up-that just did not happen here on an ecumenopolis, especially one as influential and wealthy as Hosnian prime in a wealthy district. Already she had moved towards the far side of the room, near one of the doors that said "staff only". She had not been able to find what she was looking for in the public area, but just knew it was here somewhere-maybe back in exhibits still being prepared, maybe kept in a vault. She was not leaving here without some clues as the location of the Valley of the Jedi and its remaining potency.

Mandalorians, interesting-they were usually not interested in Force User phenomenon unless it was to try to pawn it later, but she figured there were a lot of Mandalorian artifacts here. Maybe that is what they were really here for-if so, if she ran into them on her way to her objective, she could perhaps negotiate with them. If she was not forced to snap their necks, that is. Either way they and the Jedi here combined were sure to cause some kind of massive damage if not bloodbath, so she better head into the employee's only area, access a terminal to find out where what she was looking for was, and then duck out.

Ignoring Domina, as she had seen more than enough performances in her long life time, and mostly keeping an eye on the security forces as they were her primary opposition, she noticed something interesting. Most of them were moving towards the intruder, but some were moving artifacts, a seeming random amalgamation to any of the few like her observing them, but something was off to her. There was an order to the madness, but what was it?

Ah, that's right.

She glanced over at Laphisto, her "ally". Those were the objects he had been looking rather painfully at earlier. Interesting. Was he in on it? Or just being opportunistic? Dangerous with the Jedi here and risking the reputation of the Lilaste Order. Maybe no one else would notice with the bombastic Mandalorian, indeed, she had only been keeping an eye on him because she was familiar with him and mildly peeved at him for his protection of the brat Braze on Ossus. But still risky.

Shaking her head, she decided to let him play his little game. If he burned his ties with the Galactic Alliance, that would just mean he would be more reliant on the Empire, which would be good because he clearly needed a stronger collar around his neck. Letting all the distraction help her in her own pursuits, she made it to the door and pushed the handle down. Locked.

Of course it would be.

She sighed, considering her options. She could just simply force it open now with a brief burst of the Force but she was not sure if the various Jedi in attendance were fully focused on the intruders or not, and while she was a master at suppression and could likely pull off the small exertion without notice if normal Jedi were simply the ones in attendance, but there were particularly strong ones here, notably Jonya who had grown much in power since Aculia had put a bounty on her all those years ago, and she was not sure what they had focused on having been away in the Outer Rim. Best to wait and see what they do before making her move-and what else the Mandalorians would do.

Jonyna Si Mavo Cortuga Sig Dryggo Elim Thorne Ko Vuto Arabella Olivarius Alicio Organa Valor the Forsaken Laphisto

 

[Ko Vuto]

​

Location: Hosnian Prime, Jedi Historical Institute
Attire: X
Tag(s): Domina Prime | Elim Thorne | Valor the Forsaken | Jonyna Si

Ko turned his face a bit towards where Valor was. Listening to the padawan’s question. “Yeah I’m alright. Just wish I could be doing more. Luckily my side has pretty much fully healed now. So we’ll be able to do more stuff together. I have plenty of ideas in mind.” Ko replied over his shoulder to Valor as they walked together through the event.

Eventually though, Ko sensed a deathly yet familiar aura. An aura of nothingness. A void in his perception through The Force getting closer. Causing him to stop in his tracks as his body went into high alert. A phantom pain crept across his right arm as the memories of prior events resurfaced into his psyche.

The absence of the lights didn’t hinder the blind Kel Dor at all, neither did their red replacements. “Stay close Valor and do as I say.” Ko said to the teen as he reached back and grabbed their wrist securely. His now stern voice conveying a sense of urgency and seriousness. Hearing the sound of Domina’s voice Ko moved closer to it. Almost like it was some twisted siren’s call. His body easily weaving through past many of the guests as Ko himself suffered no real visual impairment from the darker, alarming red lights.

Once he was close enough he observed the concern back and forth the xeno woman was having with the organizer. It was just his luck now. Here Ko was expecting things to go smoothly. But it seemed that the universe had other plans. “Don’t panic, Sir, make sure staff and guests leave here safely, and call the authorities.” Ko said clearly and concisely to the organizer. This was an emergency and people needed to leave as soon as possible. The Kel Dor then looked back to Valor.

“You too Valor, help people evacuate here okay, and make use of the emergency exits. I’m counting on you, since I won’t be much help guiding them like you can.” Ko said, giving his goggles a quick tap to subtly remind the teen of his blindness. He wouldn’t be very good at finding the exit signs. His tone also communicated to Valor that this wasn’t some request or chore to negotiate out of doing. This was serious.

After that he turned his attention back to the mandalorian woman. Knowing what he did of her he wanted to believe that she wouldn’t go out of her way to harm innocent people here. There was no glory, no sport in such a thing. Thinking back to when she’s been a danger before being more from negligence than anything intentional. Such as when she almost crashed a ship into a city on Ryloth. Then again she was part of a strike team to ambush a bunch of padawans. So maybe he thinks too highly of her morals. “Nice to see you again, Lady Domina. I take it you’ve been doing well.” He said to her, Maintaining a rather polite and even somewhat gentry demeanor for the lady he was speaking to. “I’m sure there’s some way for us to handle things without endangering the lives of people here.” Ko wanted to strike up at least some kind of conversation. Partly to stall and allow others around them to leave and get out of immediate danger of Domina. Also to see if any other Jedi here may be able to help. ​

​

 

[Valor the Forsaken]

TAGS: Ko Vuto

Valor nodded, "I've got this," he said, his voice steady with confidence despite the surrounding tension. "I'll make sure they're safe." He surveyed the crowd, quickly assessing the best route to guide everyone to safety. Taking a deep breath, he turned and moved with purpose, weaving through the guests as he called out calmly, "This way, follow me to the exits."

His focus remained razor-sharp as he ushered people toward safety, he refused to let Ko down.

 

[Jonyna Si]

TAG: Ko Vuto Domina Prime

And there it was.

Mandalorians always had a way of making an entrance, and usually one involving threatening everyone in the room in one way or another. It was their way of saying hi, but today she was met by one that Jonyna was deathly familiar with.

Domina Prime. A creature that seemed just as mad as a Kiltik infested with Si'ved Syaw, and yet about as intellegent as Guffy was.

Jonyna would have been the first to approach her, but she watched as her former padawan Ko Vuto stepped forward first. There was a hint of pride in that, but Jonyna wasn't going to allow Ko to go up against her alone. Not again.

"Domina Prime. You break out of any prisons again, or are the Crusaders just letting you roam free now?" Jonyna asked, as she stepped forward from behind Ko. She knew trying to de-escalate the situation was pointless, Dima wouldn't allow it. Jonyna's senses reached out to keep an ear on the other potential threats in the room. A gust of wind rushed through the ballroom as the lights went out, then worked through the rest of the building. Laphisto and his soldiers were moving through, Aculia Voland was with them.

Sig Dryggo and Mavo Cortuga were elsewhere, she could feel it through the wind.

It was as if all of Jonyna's former enemies were converging on her at once.

She could only pick so many targets.

But of them all, Domina was the biggest. It was a distraction, sure. She could tell that much. Maybe it was best that she left Ko and Valor to deal with it. But could they?

She wished she had invited Jenn Kryze . Clan Kryze would be a lot of help here.