Populate Ode to the Fallen | GA Populate of Vendaxa

[Osarla Ridor]

CAPTAIN OF TORTUGA COMPANY
222ND NOVA CORPS | 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION
LAO MON | GOSHEN WAR CAMP | DUNGEONS

Going through the hyper gate had been a gamble.

There were less than ten of them behind enemy lines. And even fewer of that number were in any condition to fight.

Zark's condition was worse than hers, he'd made it to the front lines and had been toe-to-toe with the enemy on Tython. Those wounds were showing now, and his consciousness seemed to be slipping. Osarla, brutish as ever, gave him a shake to keep him with their company as the rest of her crew made themselves useful — as useful as they could behind bars.

"Captain Ridor?" San Tekka wondered if he was hallucinating, "If this is a rescue...I have some notes on your technique."

A wry grin cracked across her dirt-caked face. The concern was still apparent, and it deepened the longer she appraised her fellow Jedi.

"And I'd love to hear 'em so long as it keeps you conscious, General."

Zark had been closer to the front lines, closer to the gate, and had gone through first. Osarla and her company had been behind, long enough to evade initial capture. The delay hadn't done much for them, however. Lao Mon's war camp was heavily guarded, and their emergence into enemy territory had been met with numbers they were not equipped to handle.

Osarla and Tech had immediately been compromised.

Reporter had hidden. Concealed himself long enough to trail the guards that jailed his captain and comrade, lingered, waited, and sprung when the time was right.

Getting Osarla and Tech out was his first order of business.

His new mission was guarding the door while Osarla and Tech crouched in Zark's cell.

Osarla looked over Zark with a heavy-set frown. A hand settled on his shoulder, just above the wires that had been his metal arm. She was transfixed on the blood pouring out from his body.

"We're getting you out of here."

"And just you." Reporter gambled, his tone thin. He dared not look back, and he kept his voice low.

The other prisoners here, if we try and free 'em, our liabilities skyrocket and the likelihood of our survival plummets."

Osarla frowned and kept an arm on Zark to keep him attentive.

"It's bad enough two cells are going empty. They'll discover that."

Tech took this as his cue to join in. He was the worst out of the fraction of the Tortuga company. Parts of his suit still sparked, he had a broken arm, and the tools that made him so useful had been confiscated. He had to work from memory and pragmatism. Under his breath, he murmured equations and recipes that he could put together to manufacture a makeshift...something.

"Even if we recover all of our assets, our commlinks are short-range only. Effective for our current company. I don't have the means to boost a transmission all the way to Alliance space. "

"We're on our own then." Osarla surmised.

"Completely." Tech confirmed.

---

ALLIES | GA | NJO | Zark San Tekka | NPCS: Tech | Reporter | Suri Vullen
FOES | BOTM |

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

CLOSE OF TRADING
DU COUTEAU BUILDING // CORUSCANT

Open

Tithe was escorted to his airspeeder as the proceedings started to wind down. Politicians of all persuasions had been bribed, industrials leaders had been solicited for campaign donations, and members of the judiciary had been courted for favours. He’d even paid respects to friends, family and colleagues of the departed Seto du Couteau .

A fruitful evening, and the night was still young.

The Aargauun drew his cape, worn in honour of Seto, close to his body as he climbed into the airspeeder. The armoured vehicle and its escorts lifted off from the Senate forecourt and sped toward his residence at 500 Republica. A datapad was handed to the Chancellor to review during the short journey. “The latest valuations from Tython,” an aide explained as the airspeeder wove through the crowded Coruscant skylanes.

Tithe studied the figures. The defence of Tython, while successful, had been a drag on the Alliance coffers. Another expensive battle in a long-running war. But an Aargauun always found a way to turn losses into profits. In this instance, the solution was elegantly simple.

Write off Tython as a depreciated asset.

The planet, while still in one piece, had been assaulted by seismic activity, the falling shards of its own moon, and a tear in the fabric of time and space. The value of the world had dipped substantially - who would ever choose to live or work on such a world, except the tax-dodging Jedi? Writing down the value of the planet helped to ease the Alliance’s already stretched financial positions, and Tithe's cut from the transaction could only be described as healthy.

Tithe signed the decree and returned the datapad to his aide.

Another day, another $70 billion credits.

 

[Suri Vullen]

「now i'm at the shore」
Osarla Ridor | Zark San Tekka
TEAM NIGHTFALL
Goshen War Camp​

Sleep had come as an easy respite from the nightmare they dwelt in when waking. Her slumber was dreamless. When she woke, she fussed over her second, to little avail- he had no sanctuary from the horrors of the war camp, so he had carved one out for himself, forcing his soul to a place far away from reality. It wasn't the first time Vullen had seen it. The Stygian, Csilla- they had offered their own horrors. Stansy had only remained himself due to an innate talent to simply disappear. With little to occupy her time other than the impending doom, she chose to disappear, too.

The grasp on her arm sent shock rolling through her body. Wrenched from sleep, she came up sputtering and swinging, wondering if she could take at least a couple of the raiders before they took her. There proved little need for such a thing. Stansy had judged her reaction, catching her wrist before it made contact with the side of his head.

"What?" The captain snapped, still irritated from the rude awakening.

The man offered an insolent grin, as if to ask "That's how you say good morning?". He was moving again, and present, but Suri knew it would take time before he could gather up enough of himself to speak. He didn't need to. She had known him since he was a boy, and he had followed her across the galaxy. Time and intimate knowledge transcended the need for verbal communication.

After a moment, the smile shifted to one of defiance. His head tilted to the gathering on the opposite side of the room. With ears strained, she gathered snatches of the conversation. Hope danced with anger, propelling her to her feet. A nudge urged Stansy to follow her.

"Just him, eh?" Suri inquired on approach. "I dunno about you squishy marines, but in the pathfinders, we didn't leave soldiers behind- even if it meant uping the stakes."

Her gaze flitted over each figure, stopping on the Jedi. She knew him only kind of- they had worked towards the same goals in the war, though on opposite objectives.

"Currahee, General San Tekka." She offered with a wink before turning on the man who had seemed intent on their abandonment. "We're going with you- and so are any other Alliance Forces we run into- or so help me, none of us are leaving. I may not be Defense Force anymore, but we all fought for good. I will not let you abandon our own to the evil who made this place."​

 

[Ishida Ashina]

GRATEFUL LIGHT
CORUSCANT | SENATE PLAZA | KYBER ARCH
THE HIGHEST TRIBUTE TO THE DEAD
IS NOT GRIEF
BUT GRATITUDE

"The weight is too big to carry, Ashina."

Normally, Ishida’s family name was all she deemed important. She bore it with pride and put it at the fore of her actions. Who she was, what she was doing, was remodelling a legacy built on lies and violence. And all would know it, all would know she was Ashina the Strong, or Ashina the Rebuilder, or Ashina the —

The something. She wouldn’t be responsible for her own moniker. Ashina the Invincible, Undefeated, Manslayer, those had all been earned titles.

Never once had she been prepared to sacrifice that pursuit.

But when Sardun sacrificed himself for her and called her daughter, the importance of her blood seemed insignificant in the wake of their heartfelt union.

"-that my last act... was to save the daughter I never knew I... needed."

Ishida swallowed down her introspection and held Vilchis’ eyes.

The Warden spoke of burden, and Ishida doubted that the piece of jewellery her late Master wore could match the weight she already carried knowing he’d died for her survival.

She didn’t speak to it.

"But he did. And so this blabbering is meaningless. Will you return to the Band and help us, now that he's gone?"

Now that he’s gone.

Ishida’s tongue wilted in her mouth, and she set her jaw on edge. It was more than just her he’d left behind — it was an entire army of those who pledged themselves to Sardun’s authority. Men and women like Vilchis who believed in a cause, and their commander, unquestioningly.

Now and then, Sardun had alluded to the responsibility of a protigé, but with all the mistakes she made that mirrored the version of him that was young and foolish, the day where she could take the helm seemed so far away.

But now it could be as soon as tomorrow.

All that loyalty left suspended in waiting demanded an answer. And Vilchis seemed just as likely as Sardun to offer second chances.

Serve them, lead them. A true leader serves first. My last lesson to you... Lord of Light.

Her grip on the box tightened.

“Yes.

We have much to accomplish.”

 

[Corin Trenor]

It was there in one moment and vanished in the next. It seemed that no matter how brief the touch on his elbow had been, Corin turned over to meet Cotan with a set of worrisome eyes - not for himself, never, rather the man he shadowed around. Still, there was no time to find some retort or offer an idle comment to the man. Corin could muster no more than a soft series of nods as his mouth curled with realisation.

Yeah.

"Yeah." He muttered beneath his breath for no one to hear.

Corin answered Loske with a smile, no matter how small it sometimes seemed to be. "It means a lot." Yet, the Padawan turned across to the man he so often shadowed around and settled a hand on his back. "I can find him and offer a hand. Better you spend some time with friends."

Dagon Kaze Loske Treicolt

 

[Brama Tagge]

THE SENATOR OF TEPASI
CORUSCANT || SENATE BUILDING || PERSONAL CHAMBER
Damian Du Couteau

Damian's delight when Brama modelled the cape brought an unexpected grin to pass through her winkles. It was such a pure, raw and natural response that evoked an equally uninhibited one.

He did drink. Her judgement in ages was growing poorer by the day. Anyone southward of forty looked young to her — but she was still content with herself that she asked. The generation now was less likely to indulge in vices, treating their bodies with more respect than politicians who swirled ice around in their glasses and passed laws that didn't affect them.

"Which is your preference?" Brama asked, leaning over the bar cart herself. Normally Dash would insist he do the honours, but she'd given him the day off. Which turned out well for her, given every gesture she made caused the cape's edges to shimmer in the office's light.

"I've got the Corellian good stuff, or..." She hmmm'd at whatever the clear liquid was, then moved on to the next coloured bottle: "..Merenzane Gold?"

-My father had a lot of confidence in the Alliance, and it was all because of people he met, people like you Senator Tagge.”
“I couldn’t pass up the chance to meet someone that my father looked up to. .

Brama chuckled at a notion that suddenly struck her.

All through her life, from her very first memories, Tepasi and the Core had been meant for democracy. When it had been threatened with Imperial subjection, rebellions broke out. That's how she'd fought as a young woman, struggling against unwanted order. The democratic approach meant the people mattered most, and their words and opinions had merit. From lowly farmers to wealthy TaggeCo board members. It was only as she'd grown up, and encouraged to listen when her family spoke with other adults that her understanding of politics became deeper, more nuanced, and the word that redefined their people was alliance. Not republic, not unity government, not nation. Alliance.

She hadn't wrapped her head around it then and pursued more military endeavours. Her brother, on the other hand, understood what that meant. Emmen Tagge had done the best job of making sure this was clear, that was his grand vision. It was Emmen that recognized the Core was a numberless wash of different groups that formed and fell apart and formed again. And there was a beauty to that regeneration, and somehow all of them tacitly agree that, whatever their disagreements might be, they were united against the oppression of freedom, light, and peace. What brought them together was their resilience to tyranny.

Only in an Alliance could a fashion-forward, finance-focused Senator and an ex-Military markswoman and huntress for sport with decades (at least an entire generation) between them call one another respected familiars. Maybe even friends.

"The Senate will certainly be worse for wear without him," Brama sighed, still waiting for the heir of Teta to tell her which beverage he preferred. Even though she and Seto didn't always see eye to eye on policies, he could be trusted to cast his vote at least in favour of finances which was more predictable than other self-serving senators.

"And you? Are you interested in following in your father's footsteps or is there something else for you?"

 

[Lyrrin]

Location: Ilum
Tags: Valery Noble

---

"Master Valery Noble." the familiar voice of Lyrrin came from behind his dear friend. Though uncharacteristically as he had never once called her by title or her full name. Even more strangely was the way the Farghul was dressed: a neat black cassock with small rank bar on his left breast. His normally bare feet were clad within wide toed dress boots. His demeanor was stern as he rendered her the standard salute of the Alliance military's varied branches - which included the Strategic Intelligence Agency "The Strategic Intelligence Agency, Galactic Alliance Defense Force, and the Ministry of War extend our eternal gratitude to you and yours of the New Jedi Order for the defense of Tython and the worlds of the Alliance in these times of war." Lyrrin looked down at his right side as he pulled out palm sized datacron and offered it to the jedi "The Strategic Intelligence Agency has compiled a comprehensive list of all missing personnel, their last known whereabouts, suspected likely locations, and statuses. This particular datacron concerns members and known allies of the New Jedi Order. Please accept this gift on behalf of the Council." he moved his arm so that the datacron was closer to Valery. Throughout his rehearsed speech his professional tone was unwavering as he preformed his solemn duty. As the datacron lingered between them it faintly pulsated a cyan color which contrasted with the orange of the pyres and darkness of the Ilum's night sky.

If Valery took the datacron, Lyrrin would put his hand down stiffly at his side and turn sharply to the pyres and give a long but final salute to the fallen Jedi. While Lyrrin would have normally loathed to be part of any Jedi service or ritual these were extraordinary circumstances and his prejudices would not prevent him from carrying out his mission.

 

[Kirie]

LONELY MOURNING
SENATE PLAZA | THE KYBER ARCH
Not far from Ishida Ashina
​

The battle was over, and Kirie was alone. Not physically alone, in fact there were a great many mourners and attendees gathered around, but none that Kirie felt she could speak to. Those who she would normally go to for support were gone, dead or missing or absent.

The days since the attack had passed in flashes. Kirie recalled the hours after they reclaimed the remains of the planet, hiking back up the scarred ridgeline where she had fought with Aerys Fortan and her 313th soldiers and placing a makeshift monument in their memory. Then there was the moment when they had withdrawn, the feeling of hot water washing away the layers of caked-on dirt and soot and blood when she finally washed. She remembered how strange the Senate district had looked when she got back to Coruscant, with everyone just milling around and going about their business. The relief and guilt at having lived, having emerged unscathed.

"I'm sorry it was me who made it." she whispered to herself, then winced. Better not to think like that.

Auteme , her only real friend, was among the absent, visiting the Treicolt homestead along with the few remaining living of the Order's old guard. Likewise, her other confidant, her Master Zark San Tekka , himself a prominent stalwart of the New Jedi, was dead or missing. Their absence left Kirie listless and without anyone to share the ache in her heart. With so many prominent Jedi gone and many of the survivors mourning privately, Kirie found the events at the temple lonely and solemn, devoid of the leaders and symbols who had defined the New Jedi for a decade.

The Kyber Arch curved above her head. Kirie had given her own saber to construct it, publicly as a symbol of the will of the Jedi and the promise of the Light, privately to rid herself of the thing, to never take another life.

The question that hung in the air was who of the surviving Jedi would limp back to their posts in the temple and across the Galaxy. Morbidly, Kirie figured that most of them would return, in time. No doubt they would eventually join the ranks of the dead fallen at Tython. Very few would live into old age, and almost none would escape an eventual death by blaster or blade.

After a moment's hesistation, she opened her holo and shot off a message, closing it and slipping it back into her pocket very quickly.

"Hey Auteme, hope you are doing okay. Everything is going smoothly here, I'm happy to handle Senate matters for the next few days. Nothing much will happen I wouldn't think. Take all the time you need."

Part of her hoped that the remaining old guard, those that had joined the war as barely more than children, would simply step away. But she knew that many of them, like Auteme and the others on the Treicolt homestead, wouldn’t or couldn’t find peace.

Kirie hung her head. Wishing she had someone to talk to, instead of wallowing in misery as she always did.

 

[Valery Noble]

Location: Ilum
Appearance: Link
Tag: Lyrrin | Open

"Master Valery Noble."

She didn't even need a second to realize who the voice behind her belonged to, but the choice of words surprised her a great deal. She has known Lyrrin for years now, but never once had he been this formal to her. The way he was dressed, his expression, and the feeling she got from him through the Force all matched his tone too. It was almost difficult for her to accept, given how long they hadn't seen each other.

"Lyrrin..." she shook her head and composed herself quickly to listen to what he had to say.

The Jedi always served without a need for recognition or gratitude, but for him to be here on official business to thank her and the Jedi on behalf of the Alliance was a gesture she could appreciate. Not because of any personal feelings, but simply because she cared about the relationship between the Jedi and Alliance. A lack of tension and hostilities between them ultimately benefited everybody, after all.

"I... thank you, Lyrrin. I appreciate it." She offered him a smile and accepted the datacron he offered. When she had the chance, she was going to share it with other members of the Council, but for now, she turned back to the pyre and watched her friend. "I know you're here for business and being all... official, but it's good to see you again, Lyrrin. I'm glad you're safe."

She looked at him a moment longer and then stared at the Pyre again, its orange reflecting against her own fiery eyes. For once, she wasn't joking around with him, and she struggled even to find the words to keep a conversation going. She was just happy to see a good friend still alive after Tython.

 

[Lyrrin]

Location: Ilum
Tags: Valery Noble

---

Lyrrin continued to watch the pyres for a few moments longer as Valery's words sunk in then turned his head to look at her in a searching manner. Then a kind smile crossed his lips "Good to see you to." he looked back towards the pyres then lifted his left arm up and pulled back the sleeve, Ilum's breeze causing the loose lower sections of his dress clothes to billow forward somewhat. What he revealed was a chronometer. Lyrrin's arm fell down at he looked back towards the pyres. After roughly three more seconds the chronometer began to beep. Lyrrin turned it off with a quick motion of his right hand over his left wrist then seemed to ease "Official business is done." he turned his body to face Valery "Sorry I haven't been in touch recently. A lot of things have been happening, ya know? Its a rough time for all the directorates."

The Farghul put his hands on his hips and looked around at the surroundings "You Jedi never really got the whole 'live like its your last' memo did you? Everything is always so stoic and dreary." he glanced to her then returned his critical gaze back to the architecture "Don't get me wrong I'd wear a bedsheet to if I had abs like yours." he patted his stomach a few times "Toned, not too bumpy." the teasing was clearly an attempt to lift his friend's spirits "Smooth like a bronzium plate."

 

[Valery Noble]

Location: Ilum
Appearance: Link
Tag: Lyrrin | Open

Valery watched him bring out the chronometer and raised an eyebrow — was he really- Yeah, he was. She shook her head slightly but smiled when his tone shifted to the more personal, friendly one she was used to. "No need to apologize, I've been a little quiet myself. We lost our home on Empress Teta and then Tython right after... it has been a rough time," she nodded to him but there was no desire to be sad about it all anymore. She tried her best to smile her way past it and even chuckled when he began to joke around.

"Hey, I don't even wear-" she paused, looked down at the robes around her usual outfit, and sighed, "Okay, just this once, but only for the ceremony here. Not to hide my... abs," She grumbled something softly and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Like a bronzium plate, hm. Well, I'm just glad you're okay." His teasing had definitely brightened the mood a little, and she showed him an appreciative smile because of it. "It's a bit cold out here though — you want to head inside and grab something warm to drink? Or are you too cool for that?" she smirked.

 

[Vilchis]

Ishida Ashina

Her lips curled up.

For a brief moment.

Then the sign of approval was wiped off as quickly as it had showed up again.

"Good an' you can karking say that again." Vilchis put her non-hand on Ashina's shoulder. The cold rough metal. Grafted from Ashla's light and Tython metal. It felt almost freezing to the touch. Imagine how it would feel on a Sithspawn. "I won't make this easy for you, Ashina." Again using her family name as a cudgel, but what could Ish respond to it?

Maybe that was why it was so effective.

"Our Lord was a soft tender boy to you. You will lead them, but I got my eyes on you. I will make sure you will do us all proud and then some."

A little squeeze, which might have been meant to reassure, but what metal contraption could ever do so?

Then gently pushing her to the side and stepping up to the shrine. Vilchis didn't go in for this Atrisian camp, but Sardun's body was gone and no grave had been made for him. No memorial either, which was presumably because of the tense relationship between himself and the New Jedi Order. You didn't make friends with a personality like his.

"I will make sure your decision won't be a mistake, Master."

Wow, she felt karking stupid talking to the smoke.

 

[Hiro Statura]

"This was not how I imagined retirement would be" Then again what he had imagined was far from realistic. After spending years running from the Sith in a rundown, aging Star Defender, one's interpretation of reality could seriously be warped. Hiro had always thought he'd be able to lead a normal life, have a few children, leave behind a legacy, maybe even have a ship named him like the namesake of his first command, the heavily retrofitted MC85 Holdo's Legacy. Pretty normal aspirations, right? Except no. There was no room for a normal life in this galaxy.

"Eh, true. I always thought I'd end up somewhere on Nar Shadda. Gambling my life away" The old engineer took a big swig of his flask - a strange metal tube filled with gods knows what from gods know where. He was aging, it was visible. Hiro called him Old Man fifteen years ago, what was he now? Older man? "Tython lives. That's what matters. We won"

Hiro sighed. He waved away the waiter droid before glancing out the shipyard bar's wide viewports. He winced at the sight of the Morai and Alliance Ascendant, the two dreadnoughts beaten and broken. "Hmmm"

"Rear Admiral"

"Yes..." He glanced up slowly "Lieutenant?"

"Rear Admiral. I always knew you'd make a helluva flag officer" He glanced at the Old Man glaringly before accepting a data pad from the young officer. Casualty reports. "We won, but at what cost?"

"Sir?"

"He's not talking to you, Lieutenant. You're dismissed" The Old Man paused, putting a hand on Hiro's shoulder. "I don't know at what cost, Hiro. But I do know we have to move forward. We have to finish this war"

OPEN TO INTERACTION​

 

[Lyrrin]

Location: Ilum
Tag: Valery Noble

---

Lyrrin let out a lighthearted laugh and nodded "No not yet." he motioned towards the interior as they walked to get something to warm them "I would tell you where I've been but you know how it is. What I can tell you is that I've never been so glad to be back. The further you go the less there is." he stuffed his hands into two discreet pockets on his thighs "Hard to believe that this whole galaxy ever knew peacetime. More and more planets are invaded, conquered, or simply raided than I've ever heard of. And somehow most people seemed to forget just how long this has all been going on." though Lyrrin's musings were grave he still sounded somewhat upbeat despite it "Really made me grateful for what we have. Or had." Lyrrin found a table like structure to sit at once inside the Ilum temple and folded his arms "To strike at Tython? Ballsy move. I don't know the details of that story, you probably know more than I do personally. What I can't seem to get is why more of the galaxy doesn't turn against the Maw. They're just like the Sith Empire, the uh, old one. And a bit like the Brynadul. No redeeming qualities." he motioned his hand around dismissively "But no we're going to fight among ourselves. The NIO is waiting in the wings, you can sense it right? I don't need the Force to know that they thrive off conflict. Their whole society was built off it and if they stay complacent they'll realize what little they truly have in common." he chuckled "A love of grey perhaps?"

 

[Valery Noble]

Location: Ilum
Appearance: Link
Tag: Lyrrin | Open

"Ballsy move. I don't know the details of that story, you probably know more than I do personally."

Valery nodded but the frown she had showed it was a difficult story. The entire push through the core, Tython as the final target — she had suffered a great deal throughout it all. So many others did too, but most of it was finally behind them. The Maw was still within the Core, but she was already leading the charge to push them back out.

It was just a matter of time.

"I can sense it, yes. Not just with the Empire either — I feel darker forces moving everywhere in the Galaxy," Valery said as she watched him take a seat at the table. She looked over in the direction of the kitchen and held up two fingers, indicating to staff there that she wanted two cups of her usual drink. Hot Cocoa, in this case.

"But I don't know, Lyrrin. This war is far from over and I just feel that even when we push the Maw back, something else will pop up again. It's just... a feeling."

 

[Zark San Tekka]

GOSHEN DUNGEONS
LAO-MON
Osarla Ridor Suri Vullen
​

"Does anyone...have a cigarra?"

Coming from a Jedi, his question cut through the tension like a vibroknife. Reporter hesitantly offered the wounded monk a tabac stick. Zark exhaled with relief.

"I don't plan on leaving anyone behind," he assured them, "But the marines have a point. We don't know anything about this world, and we lack the firepower to stage a mass breakout."

Master San Tekka looked around the squalid cell. Some were Tython survivors, others taken captive on local raids. He could feel their despair.

"Weapons. Communication. Transport. Those are our priorities."

Zark gestured at Vullen and her pathfinders, "Looks like we already have some volunteers."

 

[Damian Du Couteau]

Damian Du Couteau
Location: Coruscant, Senate Building
Action: Meet with Senator and offer gift
Outfit

He looked between the bottles that the Senator offered, in all honesty he had little knowledge outside of Merenzane Gold. Not because his parents forbade drinking, but simply for his own lack of drive to try any sort of variety in his life. A slight concern did appear when Damian realized that there was no other liquid to mix in with the drink, no doubt it was to be given to him neat. With his right hand he gestured towards the Merenzane Gold bottle and listened to the Senator.

Damian nodded in agreement, but paused for a moment as wondered if the Senator meant to be humorous with the “worse for wear” comment. His father had once explained the detestable nature of humor, but Damian had all too known his father’s hypocrisy and had been the victim for such ‘vile’ jokes. Regardless, the sentiment is still appreciated all the same. Though when Senator Tagge asked him about the future, the only truthful response he could give was an ungraceful shrug of his shoulders.

Quickly remembering his manners he spoke, “-I honestly am unsure of what lies ahead. While organizing my father’s wardrobe would be considered a herculean task when compared to the work left behind since the fall of Teta. . . . I plan on completing my obligations to my family first and foremost.” He casted away, staring directly towards the ground. As if the meaning of life could be shown to him there on the floor. Demain wasn’t sure if the explanation sounded fair, but until Teta his home had been liberated, his obligations to his father were not yet complete.

“My father never intended for either my sister or myself to walk the path of politics, but after the liberation of my home-world, who knows if the people or even the nobles would support me as their Senator.” Damian added. He wasn’t under any illusion that the Nobles of Teta would support his bid to be Senator simply because of his father. More than anything they were probably eager to elevate someone else to be their Senator.

The ‘Wild Space Noble Seto Du Couteau’ was never really accepted by the Tetan Nobility; Damian though suspected how his father managed to garner support among them. Those born within the Core often held a sort of superiority of those born in the wider stretches of the galaxy. Nobility was such a pain to maintain. Damian mused and figured that perhaps the Industrialist Bloc of Teta would be a good start to garner support from and the easiest since their loyalty came with a price tag and credits weren’t at all difficult to come around by as a Du Couteau.

“Life was never meant to be simple.” Damian finally added, his eyebrows raised as his lips flipped from an exasperated smile to a straight thin line.
​

|| Brama Tagge ||​

 

[Lyrrin]

Location: Illum
Tags: Valery Noble

---

Lyrrin watched Valery with a cautious look "Hm? What like more Sith? Galaxy has seen its fair share of Sith." he brought up his hands to count "Sith Empire, Jen'ari Empire, Warlords of the Sith, Eternal Empire, the Confederacy - and before you say anything" Lyrrin gave her a pointed look "Their leader was totally a Sith in denial. I mean we have records of the dude doing crazy stuff. Vicelord more like Darklord. Anyway back to what I was saying, where was I? Oh right! The Confederacy, One Sith, uhh I think that's all I can recall so what like six?" he put his hands around the hot drink that was just brought to their shared table "Countless off-shoots, personal cults, and such that we've been tracking. We'll be fine if its just regular ole Sith." that was one way to think about it. For as much information and access to intel that Lyrrin had he was definitely underselling the grave threat that organized Sith posed to the free Galaxy "I'd be more concerned about some sort of Pirate King coming out of deep space with a massive fleet or some Mandalorian calling itself the Alor the Spectacular with an enormous fleet that crashes itself into our biggest city. Those are things that we haven't dealt with in awhile and will probably throw the GADF for a loop. Not me though, of course." he gave her a playful look "Too smart for my own good sometimes."

 

[Osarla Ridor]

CAPTAIN OF TORTUGA COMPANY
222ND NOVA CORPS | 512TH LEGION | 312 ATTACK BATALLION
LAO MON | GOSHEN WAR CAMP | DUNGEONS

Reporter grimaced at the new faces, and frowned at their words. They were plucky, but adding more bodies to their entourage would increase the risk. Each head counted was another potentially erupted skull in crossfire. His frown turned into a sneer just as he straightened, broadened his shoulders, and was about to snap back at Suri

“——”

"Does anyone...have a cigarra?"

He clicked his teeth shut, recognized the initiative, and warily obliged one of his own over to the wounded general. Keeping his glare hot on the Pathfinder captain.

His chin tightened to support a strong-jawed, triumphant smirk when the General agreed with his point.

“I’ll go with you. Adding a sabre stick to your retinue — provided I get it back — might be worth it. In the meantime, Tech, see what you can do about The General’s arm on the fritz.”

The wiry marine, Tech, nodded.

“And then I’ll be on communication.” Tech volunteered, poking his finger into the cell’s dirt and drawing a series of boxes. “From what I remember, the dungeons we’re in are at the heart of the camp. Right above is the central keep.”

"Heavily guarded." Reporter assumed.

"Heavily guarded." Tech confirmed.

Osarla looked over to the Pathfinders: “If we can get communications out, and either ask for reinforcements to find a transport large enough, then we can discuss a broader rescue mission that doesn’t put the prisoners in worse danger than these cells.”

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ALLIES | GA | NJO | Zark San Tekka | Suri Vullen | NPCS: Tech | Reporter
FOES | BOTM |

 

[Brama Tagge]

THE SENATOR OF TEPASI
CORUSCANT || SENATE BUILDING || PERSONAL CHAMBER
Damian Du Couteau

The elder senator handed the golden liquid in a carved out glass with ice to Damian and leaned back into her own chair to hear the responses he regaled to her questions.

While organizing my father’s wardrobe would be considered a herculean task when compared to the work left behind since the fall of Teta. . . .

Brama was past the age where she concealed her chuckles. Thusly, she snickered at the validity of the young Du Couteau's statement. If Brama reflected on it, and she did, she'd certainly note that she'd never once, not once, seen Seto replicate an outfit. That in itself was a gargantuan task, given the constant hearings of private committees, senate hearings, Alliance Command centres.

Thoughtfully, Brama touched her eyepatch and considered that she might start sporting unique designs for each meeting type at least.

but after the liberation of my home-world, who knows if the people or even the nobles would support me as their Senator.”

Damian's mention of Empress Teta pinched at the huntress' sympathies, and she visibly winced. All the age-gloried lines in her face deepened, and she swirled the ice in her glass around to create some noise outside of the weary conversation of planets lost.

“Life was never meant to be simple.”

"Regardless," She lifted her wrist, a surprisingly elegant shape that peeked out of the drapery of the cape and adorned in two golden bangles that clinked together when she gestured. "A toast, to life. Unsimple, but lived."

She saluted her glass in Damian's direction, took a sip, and then let it rest on the arm of her chair. Hawkishly, she eyed the boy before continuing the conversation.

Caution took the premiere of her focus with the next broach of a topic, and she kept her gaze levelled at the face of the new generation: "If representing Empress Teta is something that you want to do, whether or not it was your plan, It would be a process. One that would look like this:

Empress Teta would have to rejoin the senate in an official capacity of course.

I, and other senators, would have to make motions in the senate to dedicate resources to reclaim lost worlds from The Brotherhood. And you, if you would like to be considered a senator, would have to be at the front of those efforts to recoup your homeworld. Either via charity or heroism."