Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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That light at the end of the tunnel leads to Hell

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LEAD SHIP NAME: CELESTIAL CITY
SHIP CLASS: SUPER CARRIER
EQUIPPED: 25x L4Vele Series Deployable Defense turrets.
Amenediel Shuttle Mk II

SHIP NAME: RETRIBUTION
SHIP CLASS: ESCORT CRUISER

SHIP NAME: SPARROW’S WIT
SHIP CLASS: ESCORT CRUISER

SHIP NAME: PARABELLUM
SHIP CLASS: LINERATOR CARRIER/ATTACK CRUISER

SHIP NAME: WICK'S FURY
SHIP CLASS: LINERATOR CARRIER/ATTACK CRUISER

SHIP NAME: BARILLO
SHIP CLASS: MULTI-PURPOSE

SHIP NAME: LIBERTY'S LIGHT
SHIP CLASS: ANTI-STARFIGHTER
FIGHTER COMPLIMENT:
103rd Tactical Starfighter Wing "Angel of Death Squadron"

LONG-RANGE INTERCEPTION
Super Archangel class Multi-Role Fighter/Interceptor (20 Squadrons)

STEALTH/RECON FIGHTER
Elysian class Strike fighter (20 Squadrons)

181st Tactical Starfighter Wing “Voodoo Wing”

MULTIPURPOSE SUPERIORITY FIGHTER
NC-1000 X-Wing (15 Squadrons)
Capital A-Wing (9 Squadrons)

BOMBERS W ESCORT
"AMF" Y-wing Bomber (10 Squadrons)
Sovereignty Class Heavy/Assault Fighter (7 Squadrons)

78th Support Air Division “Ares Wing

SUPPORT/TRANSPORTS
Cherub Gunship (3 Squadrons)
Cherub Transport (5 Squadrons)

SPACIAL COMBAT AND RENDITION - SCARs use the Jackal Fighter for its balance of speed and maneuverability as well as its remote capabilities. This allows the elite pilot/operators to"bail" and operate in zero-G often a tactic in boarding capital ships.

SCAR WING
Jackal Class Starfighter (1 Squadron)
[COMMS COMMUNICATION]​

"NEVER DRAW A LINE IN SAND...
... JUST DIG A DITCH IN THE MUD."

SECTOR: Coruscant Outside a Cantina
ORDERS: BYOO
WINGMATES: . Gress D'ran Gress D'ran
ENGAGING: .


Not long after leaving the Cantina, a Cherub Gunship touched down on a landing port not that far away from the two as they walked outside. It did not look out of the ordinary (other than being military) as shuttles, and speeders and such do this all the time; the only difference of course was that, it’s a gunship. Leading the way over to “their ride”, Liram returned their salutes and twirled two fingers to the pilot signaling to the pilot that they were “green” and ready to go the moment he and Gress were on.

The Cherub was an interesting design, but held a similar aspect to many that went back over a thousand years. This was not a dropship, the loading ramp was still in the rear, but the troop doors were on the side.

It shouldn’t be much for the huge Devaronian, but a “hop” for Liram to get into the armed transport(denying a helping hand “This goat can still climb”).

“Welcome aboard, sirs! Destination?” Shouted the Transport Commander, he had to shout because the engines were still running and the exhaust reflecting off the landing pad was… “loud”.

High Command. We have a meeting that they don’t know about.


[*Continued in a separate thread]

R Adm Liram Angellus - Flag Officer Cpt Evern Gym - Celestial City CO
Cpt Luap Anoa’i - Retribution CO Capt Nels Run - Sparrow’s Wit CO
Cmd Cratuo Ukorp - Parabellum CO Cmd Vren Ogerp - Wick’s Fury CO
Cmd Montez Dvon - Barillo CO Lt. Eloc NoLiberty’s Light CO
Cpt Ewan “Raider” Isaacs - Fleet CAG/SCAR 1
 


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"He's like family."

That was the easiest way to explain it for Aris. Once Shan was over he nodded once. Help was the goal, though honestly Aris wasn't sure how he could. He didn't have the Force, and more importantly, he didn't even have any basic medical skills. Well no he had simple medical skills, but he certainly wasn't a nurse. "Zaiya and I both want to help. I'm not sure what I can offer, but I can carry things? Heavy things. The really heavy things, you know?"

He could do that much at least.

Shan Pavond Shan Pavond | Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti
 
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Objective Three
Interacting with Aris Noble Aris Noble | Shan Pavond Shan Pavond

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Like family.

That was such a nice thing to hear. It made Zaiya smile, recalling their original conversation when they first met, where she told him that friends are the family you choose to be with. A brief shimmer of turquoise would flutter over her skin in contentment, followed by a more focused amber hue as Shan Pavond Shan Pavond joined them.

Once Aris explained what he could help out with, Zaiya shone a friendly, if slightly nervous, smile over at the Mirialan teenager. He appeared to be a medic, perhaps since he was talking about providing medical aid. Zaiya wasn't sure, but she also didn't want to assume.

"Hello, I'm Zaiya," she introduced herself, even though Aris had already mentioned her, "Umm... I don't know much about medical aid, but if you show me what you need to get done, I will be happy to assist in any way I can. If needed, I can talk to people or move things... although maybe not as heavy as Aris."

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"Shan. Pleasure to meet you Zaiya." Shan smiled at the little 'un and gave a small bow in her direction. Before standing up straight once more and trying to figure out the best things the two could do to help the soldiers as he looked around, rubbing his chin in thought. Medical treatment was something he could work on pretty well, but that wasn't going to be the only thing that was needed. There were going to be soldiers trying to move equipment and supplies.

"Carrying things could be a good idea Aris. There's probably a few soldiers struggling to move supplies. The sooner they're moved, the better. Don't worry about treating people. If you see anyone badly hurt, I can treat them." That was going too be the muscle getting to work, but now he needed to figure out a plan for Zaiya...

"There might be a few soldiers who need someone to talk to, or a reminder of what they're fighting for." The Mirialan spun around on the heel of his foot, glancing over towards Zaiya with a bright grin. "That's where you can come in. With your glowing nature, you might be able to remind them of a brighter future. Of hope." When Shan meant glowing nature...He meant it in the literal sense. He was just trying to play to what he thought were going to be their best strengths.

Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti Aris Noble Aris Noble
 
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Objective: Prison Break
Tag: Minerva Fhirdiad Minerva Fhirdiad Ailmar Dawnstone Ailmar Dawnstone
"Acknowledged Lt. this is Captain Fhirdiad, Strike Force Talon. Our company is enroute to secure the Detention Center. You're welcome to join us shocktrooper.”
Minutes later the ramp opened with wind gushing loudly. Minerva ran down and leaped out followed those in her gunship. The rest from their transports made their jumps. Activating her jetpack she sped like a blaster bolt toward the main landing platform joined by nearly a hundred commandos. It wasn't long before they landed in a chorus of thuds on the platform.

Getting to her feet Minerva gave several hand singals. The whole strike force divided up into their platoon formations covering each other's flanks. They were preparing their advance.

"Copy Captain. My platoon is back at base, it's just me. Lost a man back on Teta, letting my boys R&R."

As the LAAT landed, Ashley once more checked her gear. It was a habit, at this point. Maybe she was a bit paranoid, especially firing on what were, for all accounts, civilians.

Stun. Alright Ash, let's rock.

Looking to Minerva Fhirdiad Minerva Fhirdiad , she gave her a nod. "Lead the way, Captain."

 


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Coruscant
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Tag: Gatz Derrevar Gatz Derrevar
After getting her hands cleaned up and putting on the smock and gloves Gatz had offered her, Vera followed him to their first patient. She was, as always, very eager to help out and sometimes she struggled to contain that excitement. But as soon as she saw the woman on her bed, bandaged up but clearly still in poor condition, the young Noble grew a lot more serious. She understood that this was for real and that these people relied on them for help.

They were not in critical condition perhaps, but their recovery could go much more smoothly if they got the help they needed. And even light injuries could still get infected if they did a poor job.

This was not to be underestimated.

"I've got this," she told Gatz before walking over to the woman's bed to introduce herself, "Hello Miss, I'm Jedi Padawan Vera Noble," she began with a sweet smile. "I'm going to help you get better. But first I'd like to know if you had any water already?" she asked and despite her situation, the Twi'lek managed a smile for the young girl.

"I have but I'm still rather thirsty," she replied.

"I'll get you some water and we'll have a good look at your injury! You'll be better in no time, I'm sure."

 


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Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Lightsaber
Tag: Vera Noble Vera Noble


With Vera covering water, and making sure the patient was at least conscious, Gatz quickly set to work finding the supplies he needed to tend to the woman's wound. He found out that bacta was in short supply, and only being used for the most severe patients. That made things a lot more complicated, but he'd long since learned how to treat injuries when the magical cure-all substance wasn't available. That was one of the few good tricks he'd picked upon Nar Shaddaa, and learning at The Vonnuvi enclave had only expanded his knowledge.

Gatz returned a moment later, pushing a small cart with a number of items on it: a small bowl of water, soap, an antibacterial cream, some gauze, fresh linen bandages, and painkillers.

He smiled at Vera, seeing her so caring and attentive of this woman. It left a warm feeling bloom in his chest, one that was both familiar and not—pride in someone else. He wasn't sure he'd ever been proud of another person before. Hell, he couldn't remember the last time he was proud of himself. But those were mysteries to ponder later.

"Well hello there!" Gatz gave the woman a small smile, before attempting some of his trademark humor, "I'd ask how you're doing, but I figure catching a blaster bolt to the shoulder is pretty indicative of a shitty day."

Gatz pushed the cart close to the woman's bed, and stepped aside to let Vera pass her some water.

"But, between my assistant here and myself, we'll get you right as rain. Or, at least on the path to it." He gave the woman a smile, "I'm Gatz, and I'm sure she told you, but this is Vera. We're with the Jedi Order. Would you mind telling me your name?"

 
"Coren, my old friend."

Master San Tekka smiled. It was almost unsettling. He always seemed so detached and emotionless. Joy made the old man look a decade younger. Zark turned back to the gathered Order with renewed vigor. Most of his comrades were now one with the Force but he first met Starchaser a long time ago. It felt easier to carry their memory around someone who shared it.

"Rendezvousing with the Ithorian herdships will grant us time," he interjected at last while stroking his beard in thought, "They are mostly self-sufficient. We are agreed in principle at least that should the evacuation take place these are logical first steps."

Everyone gathered in this temple wanted to save the galaxy, they just couldn't always agree on how best to do it. Such disagreements were inevitable with so many conflicting personalities even united as they were by the Jedi Code's teachings. Diversity was a part of the natural cycle.

"It would be wise to invoke new Guardian Protocols. Those safeguards exist for a reason. With enough volunteers the temple here on Coruscant could remain operational as a satellite outpost until the danger has been confronted."

Some of them at least seemed to recognize the threat Tython's fall represented. Those who had never known a life without Coruscant at its center seemed more uncertain. Shadows gathered all around the Core. Just like last time.

"Whether we broadcast a message or not, many will resent the Jedi. That should not stop us from doing what's right. Panic is inevitable now. If enough of us fall at once, then this war will already be lost."
 
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Tag: Ailmar Dawnstone Ailmar Dawnstone Ashley Nevermore Ashley Nevermore Open to GA/Jedi/Allies​

Acknowledging Ashely with a nod, Minerva then swifty hand signals the company forward. They advanced, still divided by platoons. As they neared the entrance it exploded leaving a great cloud of smoke in its wake. Soon a collective roar of hundreds could be heard in its midst followed by moving shadows surging closer and closer. From their sensors the Alliance commandos and the shocktrooper with them picked up multiple heat signatures that grew in number.

Out of the midst came convicts in orange outfits, many wielding blasters and makeshift weapons. Despite the appearance of Alliance troops the mob kept charging and shooting at the arrivals and that fire was returned by the Talons. One of the commandos next to Minerva got clipped in the hip and dropped sideways grunting in pain. Lifting her new particle rifle she aimed and pulled the trigger, shooting in semi-auto bursts, downing four enemies in quick succession.

The front platoons lay down suppressing fire while those in the center and rear flew up in the flanks via jetpacks, shooting at their foes and dividing attention. The prisoners had numbers and desperation but the troops had better coordination and mobility. As she reloaded a fresh clip she heard Sumi in the air say in the comms.

"Cap there groups of prisoners separating from the mob. They heading for the transports on both sides."

It doesn't take a genius to figure out that those prisoners were using their inmates as a massive distraction. Immediately Minerva ordered the company.

"Destroy those vehicles! I don't care if the bureaucrats complain later we need to cut off their escape!”

Just then a gray painted airspeeder was ascending with many would-be escapees clamoring on it and kicking off others trying to join. Minerva locked on from her helmet's hud and fired her jetpack rocket toward the speeder. The missile slammed into its left side and the speeder burst into flames and loudly crashed back to the platform exploding again. Then a gunship still grounded was destroyed by a different rocket shot followed by a third missile toward a group of speeder bikes. Desperately the convicts tried to reach the remaining vehicles while others exchanged fire or tried to charge again at the Alliance troops.

Descending and rolling behind some wreckage Minerva called out to any allied forces listening.

"We need air support! Prisoners are trying to escape by transports at the main platform! I repeat we need air support!"
 
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OBJECTIVE: Rush rush rush!
Open to GA/Jedi/Allies

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“Captain, they’re calling for air support. We've got to go now.”

"Understood, last of the men are boarding now."

As Camilla's voice crackled over the ship's communications, the Spirit's engines roared to life, thrumming with power. With the final crew member accounted for, the takeoff procedure commenced swiftly, propelling the vessel into the air within minutes. Each sailor aboard the Spirit moved with purpose, guided by constant drilling and years of experince in the merchantile sector. The helmsman steered with precision, navigating the crowded skies of Coruscant with practiced ease, albeit through an illegal and hurried pathway.

Below, the bustling city streets teemed with high-class citizens, unsuspecting of the massive 380-meter-long vessel hurtling toward them. The Spirit's trajectory was clear: toward the prison, with a mission that promised a rude awakening for the privileged few below. Maneuvering such a colossal ship through the tight confines of the city's corridors was a feat in itself. "Gods be damned

Onboard the Spirit, the crew sprang into action, each member returning to their designated stations, readying themselves for what lay ahead. Ailmar and the Huntsmen reclaimed their positions on the bridge, while gunners manned their posts and security measures were put into place. Though not traditional soldiers, their experiences in the mercantile fleet sector had honed their teamwork and efficiency, especially in the heat of atmospheric engagements. The Spirit had seen its fair share of battles against pirates, but this mission was different.


Ailmar held firm to the principles of old, where leadership was earned through democratic election, and moral quandaries were not brushed aside. Yet, in the cutthroat world of politics, there was no room for such deliberation. The bridge crew understood their task, as did the gunners, the only ones informed to the full extent of the operation. Amidst the tension, four souls chose to step away from their triggers in protest, they were neither reprimanded nor shunned; their guns would instead fall silent for the duration of the operation. "Four of the crew have refused to take part in the operation, we're down two turbo-lasers and the cluster bomb teams." The munitions officer informed the captain over internal commutations

Ailmar went to respond but was cut off by his first officer who gave the captain a pat on the back.
"Got it, relocate them to the quartermaster until the end of the operation, we still have a huge amount of supply to sort through." After answering the muntions officer, the first officer turned to Ailmar with a smile on her face. "You handle this situation, Ail, we'll handle the rest." Alimar knew he could trust in his crew to handle the going ons of his ship and gave a nod, after all he still had a lot to learn, and so did not kick up a fuss like many others would.

Throughout the flight, the bridge crew had been listening to the local radio and hearing the situation progressively get worse for alliance forces attempting to hold back the tide of escapist. Radio chatter throughout the ship was filled with all sorts of emotion as the crew had a clear picture of scene unfolding below. And just as the Frigate had climbed above the skyline so shortly ago, did they begin to descend closer to the prison. Of all the thoughts running through the minds of the crew, one thing was for sure.

This was an absolute mess.

“Camilla, patch me into local authority.” Ailmar's voice rang out in sharp conviction as he stood aboard the command deck of the bridge, his gaze fixed on the sprawling cityscape below. Idle chatter which had filled the bridge quieted to a whisper as to not interfere with the transmission. With each passing moment, the urban landscape shrank into the distance as the Spirit ascended along its course.

After a brief pause, Camilla pivoted to meet Ailmar's gaze, acknowledging him with a solemn nod. The Captain's steady voice declared the vessel's intentions.
“This is Captain Dawnstone of the neutral Spirit in the sky frigate. We are in the area and ready to lend assistance to stop the uprising, requesting permission to open fire on the fleeing prison transports.”

The prison soon came into sight as the captain had asked for permission from local authorities to open fire, however until they were cleared the gunners were ordered by the munitions officer. However, it didn't take a genius to see the orange suits rushing into transports in an attempt to flee the prison, and above the spirit loomed over the prison ready to fire on the transport craft. However, level heads would be of great importance here, and the munitions officer had to remind the gunners of something very important. "Watch your fire, we're shooting at civilian targets."

 
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Piloting: Gunship, "Daisy Dukes"
Equipment: Pilot Stuff, Sidearm, Hair Gel, Sunglasses, Flightsuit

"Hey pretty lady. Flyboy en route."

He hadn't heard that ID over the radio since he last covered her. His voice over the radio was calm, collected, and very much in control. But a more important topic than the sultry voice of the Mandalorian was on his mind-

She owed him a drink.

Through the smoke and over the horizon- came a very distinct sound. The sound of a HAAT Alliance gunship coming between buildings. The reverberating sound carried over the prisoners, causing some to look up in fear. And fear that was righteous, fear that was valid.

Because Wedge Draav, the avenging winged angel, came at the behest of his companions call. The HAAT was old, but it was still functional and quite deadly. The Gunship opened up with a salvo of accurate and deadly fire that only a Revenant squadron member could produce, scoring three kills in one burst. Prisoners ran back from the explosions and some more perished in the fiery aftermath of Wedge's strafe.

"Paint me targets, and you get results. Point me where you need me."
 
if they're watching anyways


Auteme stopped tapping her foot, flexed her fingers, stretched her neck. Her entire body felt sore, but it was the headache splitting her skull that hurt the most.

She was thinking about him. In this place, where they'd battled. On the world she'd failed once. She hadn't held the knife, but she'd seen it coming. She'd done her part, but where it mattered most she'd failed.

In the years since, Coruscant had rebuilt, grown stronger and more prosperous, as it always did. Now he was coming to take it away again. And not mere devastation, not just an attack -- every time she closed her eyes, she could see those black claws wrapping around the planet, until the only lights were from the stars. All the time she'd spent stewing on it reminded her of Csilla, of Tython. The destruction he threatened was on that scale.

The audacity they had. I will not leave. This is the end of the Alliance. That foreign feeling gripped her heart again, the one that took her whole body and tensed it, crushed it, lit it aflame. Oh, they'd seen ends. They'd seen danger.

That part of her that still lived understood them, overflowed with understanding, wanted so desperately to grasp the sincerity in Fortan's voice or Mecetti's. And her heart hardened, knowing suddenly that she wanted no part in this, that there was nothing for her here. Her mind dwelled on no one present in this room.

"I've heard enough," she said, cutting in before the next speaker was called on. "There is not a Senator here who would dare suggest abandoning Coruscant completely. But us, moving to a more secure location, is not some grand collapse of the Alliance. It is an acknowledgement of the threat we face and an appropriate move against that threat.

"We talk about this world in the abstract, but I remember the last time we were attacked here. Coruscant burned that day. We did not know that attack was coming and we were crippled by it. The loss that day was incalculable. Our own Chancellor was rendered comatose and our leadership was compromised for much of the war after that. We will not make the same mistake again. Not out of stubbornness or some claim at how our optics might cripple us. Pride and image do not sustain this Alliance.

"We will fight for Coruscant and its people, and we will fight hard. But you are not soldiers. Our presence here sways little in our enemy's plans, nor will it make a difference in our favour for the coming battle. Better to keep our legislative and executive capabilities intact even in the worst case scenario -- and many more scenarios. Coruscant is well-defended but vulnerable in so many ways. We should not allow ourselves to be another vulnerability."


She thought of the office for the Senator of Epoch. Briefly hers, always his. She would not allow Solipsis to win again.

"I will here announce my intention to issue an executive order -- that we move the Senate and its associated functions to Fondor, effective immediately. I will also motion for this session to be closed. Thank you."
 
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Casteban Mecetti quirked a brow as the leader of the Galactic Alliance cancelled democracy and ended the session.

Well... that was a choice.

A presence gripped his mind for a moment. He felt some alarm, until he recognized the source.

Obulette had sent him a message. But there had been no need. They were already in alignment.

This was the end of the Galactic Alliance. The only thing this government had which stood it apart from the alternatives was a respect for the will of its member planets. But with the recent vote to infringe on planetary rights under the auspices of equality, and now this decision to obviate voting altogether...

Well, the dream of the Alliance had been killed. It had been murdered in a room full of Senators, during a session of the Senate.

Casteban wondered how many times a great Republic like this one had been murdered in such a way.

'Best intentions' could be as sharp and deadly as daggers.

He looked up at his protocol droid.

"Go tell the shuttle pilots to prepare for departure. There is much to do, and not much time to do it."






Jace colis Dracken Pryce Dracken Pryce Kel Se'Taav Kel Se'Taav Casteban Mecetti Casteban Mecetti Rens Ahim Rens Ahim Alicio Organa Alicio Organa Arcadius Balthazar Arcadius Balthazar Kha'la Daaray Kha'la Daaray Ariana Du Couteau Ariana Du Couteau Dassid Hydia Dassid Hydia Auteme Auteme
 


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Aris gave a single nod as he looked over towards where he could see some pulling along supplies. He glanced to Zaiya, giving her a brief smile of encouragement before he stepped away. Shan he trusted to help Zaiya find something she could do to help. He stepped away, moving to lift up some of the crates that had been intended for a hovercart.

He just carried it to it's destination without any issue, much to the surprise of those around. He didn't seem to notice the confusion of the others, and just continued going back and forth with the far too heavy for someone his age to be carrying normally crates with a calm smile on his face.

Shan Pavond Shan Pavond | Zaiya Ceti Zaiya Ceti
 
skin, bone, and arrogance
Natasi watched the proceedings unfold with a subtle feeling of nausea settling in her core. She did not share the Obulette Senator's dire predictions about the end of the Alliance hinging on this very decision. The Chancellor threw cold water on a discussion better than anyone Natasi could recall, and once she had achieved the task there was nothing left to achieve. Perhaps the Chancellor should fortify herself on Fondor; the Alliance government would be saved in fact if not in name.

"I second the Chancellor's motion to end the session," Natasi said, her voice flat; she was already navigating her pod back to its space in the ring around the Senate chamber. There was no need to stay to vote on the motion; there were plenty of clapping seals that would see it done.

The Aegis Senator stepped out of the pod, her dark eyes thoughtful. This woman passed other colleagues, nodded when her eyes met another's, but she was miles away, deep in thought. She had pledged herself to the Galactic Alliance in much the same way she had pledged herself to every task and government she had been a part of, and for the first time she had begun to wonder if she was wasting her time. How much of oneself was one obligated to give to an institution that would not help itself?

Natasi paused to glance behind once more, inscrutable eyes taking in the Senate rotunda as if it were the last time she would ever see it. Then, in recognition that there was much to be done for herself and her colleagues who would be leaving the capital, she pushed through the doors out of the rotunda and headed back to her office.
 

Tag: Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor

Ryana was about to leave hearing the plans to relocate the younglings and padawans before caltin walked up and patted her on her back Making her jump a little bit in surprise as she looked at him "hello master vanagor" she said. She was used to being unseen by most or atleast forgotten by them even when she was in the room that's when she noticed pip eating something as she didn't hear buster beg right beside her "I'm fine" she said unsure of what to say "I don't need anything besides I'm sure you have bigger concerns than Me with this dark empire on coruscants door step and the sith empire being a problem" she said Unconfidently as she stood there.
 
Objective: 2
Attire: Jedi Outfit
Equipment: Crossguard Lightsaber
Tags: Valery Noble Valery Noble | Kahlil Noble Kahlil Noble | Jasper Kai'el Jasper Kai'el | Jonyna Si Jonyna Si | Caltin Vanagor Caltin Vanagor

Some of you might not remember it. Most of this generation might just see it as ancient history. But I remember. I remember an entire decade of my life where the jedi, for all intent and purposes, didn't exist. They were a myth, a sect of heroes long gone, slain by the Empire, the first Empire, and relegated to the realm of fantasy.

Listening to Jonyna, Lily knew there had been times where the Jedi had become distant with those they had meant to protect. She studied the history, when they left Coruscant to live on Tython in the aftermath of the Sacking of Coruscant by the Sith Empire, the Jedi Purge of the first Galactic Empire and the aftermath of the Rebellion made Jedi seem like mythical figures. Even during the Gulag plague, that had caused the Jedi to seem like ancient, impossible figures. "That was my point, Master Si. That becoming wayward would turn us into myths and fantasies, that there is a risk of those we aim to protect to believe us fictional and grow resentful that we fled in their view."

Lily wasn't attempting to diminish the hardship of that time or the pain that many went through, but she was also being pragmatic, there were many issues of the Jedi during that time period and being disconnected from those that they were meant to be protecting. Lily wanted to avoid becoming that style of Jedi and held fears that travelling constantly on a ship, never staying one place too long was something that she feared would cause that separation from the Jedi and the people.

But it was clear there was no perfect solution and Lily was unsure what would be happening next. She just knew she would not flee, she would not hide. She could not.
 
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"That was my point, Master Si. That becoming wayward would turn us into myths and fantasies, that there is a risk of those we aim to protect to believe us fictional and grow resentful that we fled in their view."
"And mine, Lily, is that we already are to them. I've seen it from the other side. I've been that civilian that looks up to the jedi like they're ghost stories for the wicked. I've seen the faces of people when they hear a lightsaber ignite in a crowded bar of scum, or on a battlefield. I don't think that us moving for our own safety will change anything. As long as we stand with the people of Coruscant, then we serve our purpose. Being a jedi isn't about worrying about how the people see us. It's about doing the right thing, for the sake of doing the right thing. That lightsaber is a message to the galaxy, a message of hope. So long as we hold to that message, the people will trust us. I did, even when there wasn't anyone to uphold that message. Except...me."

To Jonyna, it was a foregone conclusion. The jedi were the gifted, the strong. An order who's responsibility and power meant that those outside of it didn't see them as regular people. They couldn't. Not with how they kept themselves cooped up in the temple, or anywhere else.

What mattered was the protection of their own now. The young and the innocent. She couldn't let another generation live in fear like she did.

Tag: Lily Decoria Lily Decoria

 
Objective Three
Interacting with Aris Noble Aris Noble Shan Pavond Shan Pavond

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"There might be a few soldiers who need someone to talk to, or a reminder of what they're fighting for." The Mirialan spun around on the heel of his foot, glancing over towards Zaiya with a bright grin. "That's where you can come in. With your glowing nature, you might be able to remind them of a brighter future. Of hope."

"Okay... Umm.... is there anything I should talk about specifically? Or just whatever is on their minds?" Zaiya asked, giving a brief glance over at Aris Noble Aris Noble as he departed to go help move things. She gave a nod of encouragement, before returning her attention to the Mirialan medic.

"I've... never done anything like this before. Could you help me by showing me first and then I can try by myself?" the young Lovalla teen inquired to Shan Pavond Shan Pavond . By all accounts, this was more than Zaiya had ever done with helping out others in a triage or refugee environment.
 
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Command Bridge
ANS Mon Mothma
Coruscant Orbit

The assault on the Deep Core had been a sobering experience further shaking the foundation of the Alliance that had already been caught unawares when the Enclave had torn through the Southern quadrant of Alliance territory. Already, there was the likelihood that voices within the Federal Assembly were demanding answers or calls to action regarding the attack and the reemergence of an old enemy that now held the Deep Core firmly in their grasp. Of course, those voices were likely the same that would demand action only to turn around and prevent the Alliance from taking any action; obstructionism, it would seem, was the name of the game. It was those specific Senators, those voices in the Federal Assembly that were a rot within the body that needed to be removed, however, they seemed to be adept at preventing their removal.

Slipping from the stars, the vast behemoth of a vessel dropped back into realspace, looming over the Capital of Coruscant as the rest of its Battlegroup soon followed. The ANS Mon Mothma had spearheaded the battlegroup that sought to protect Tython, and despite it being a target for an attempted Holdo Maneuver, the vessel was no worse for wear, save for having lost a couple of corvettes, and a badly damaged frigate that hadn't gotten out of the way in time. The heavier shielding of the vessel had saved it from the brunt of the strike, and though damaged, it still managed to make it home with minimal effort or any additional challenges. What mattered now was accounting for the vast array of support craft and shuttles that had fled from Tython whilst being covered by the bulk of the Battlegroup.

The woman stood silently in a command room overlooking the vast hangar bays of the ANS Mon Mothma, golden-yellow hues silently gazing upon the shuttles that were quickly being brought aboard. Triage had already been established, a litany of Doctors, Nurses, and Medical Droids rushed in to assist, and thankfully, many of the injuries had been minor. There were a few more serious cases, GADF Soldiers pulled from the front lines that utilized their bodies to protect the people of Tython as they fled. It was a somber moment, a moment of realization that the Alliance would now face multiple enemies on multiple fronts. Clasping her hands behind her back, she closed her eyes for a moment, taking the time to center herself and accept the reality as it set in and began to account for lives lost. What mattered was the people, and in that, she was thankful that they had managed to save as many as they had whilst covering their flight to the Capital.

Memories slipped forward into her mind as she thought back on previous engagements, attempting to find some conflict that mirrored what the Alliance now faced. The Sith were emboldened, striking both in the Northern and Southern Systems as they sought to lay low the Rimward Trade League and further secure Ancient Sith Space. It was the newly forged relationship with the Mandalorian Protectors that took some pressure off of the Alliance, permitting them to focus efforts away from a potential conflict with the Empire that had established itself within the Greater Tion Cluster; allowing the Alliance to focus on the resurgent Brotherhood, this newly established Dark Empire.

Amelia slowly opened her eyes as she steeled herself for what was to come, her attention falling once more upon the hive of activity that was currently the hangar bay of the massive vessel. Before everything was said and done, before the final bell was rung, there would be countless lives lost and she would be there, the focal point of it all. For what was to come, the Alliance would shift and change, there was no doubt, however, the question would present itself; what would the Alliance turn into? Would it even survive this conflict, or would the very effort of striking down these enemies result in the Alliance itself also falling?

 

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