People of Our Fears [Galactic Alliance Hex Dominion of M'haeli]

[Asmus Janes]

AGGRAW
Location: The Weary Traveler Cantina
Objective: Do your own thing - Chillin' with Rogues and Scoundrels
Allies: [member="Alexandra Russo"] 1, [member="Aedan Lochlan"] 2, [member="Tela Uolmi"] 3, [member="Loske Matson"] 5, [member="Cal Sedaire"] 6, [member="Choli Vyn"] 7, [member="Vale Endriss"] 8, [member="Asmus Janes"] 9, [member="Lucius Varad"] 12, [member="Allyson Locke"] 13, [member="Owen Holst"] 14, [member="Devyn Lynton"] 17, [member="Zark"], [member="Logen Brunner"]
Enemies: Bar brats

Bright red blood filled his mouth. It seemed as if the red lined the bright white of his teeth as he looked up at Choli and grinned. Everything was spinning and he could barely hear here through the high pitched whine that seemed to fill his head.

But it wouldn't do to seem deterred by a simple punch.

"I'm sure it's worse that it looks. Thanks small!" he tried to sit up and laugh but instead ended up slipping back onto one elbow.

"But it doesn't look broken does it?" he asked. For the first time panic tinged his voice as he reached up to feel his nose.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Location: Mhaeli
Objective: Watch Over The Little Ones
|2|

"We must learn from mistakes made, Master Truden." Sardun responded after a moment of brief thought. It wasn't difficult to detect the various shifting overtones in Kana's speech, but he ignored it for the moment. At the end of the day Michael was hardly the epitome of a working moral compass and staunch adherence to the Lightside, so to comment on it would be hypocritical at the best of times.

"Never can we become complacent, simply because the obvious threat has disappeared."

He mused on that for a while, but the Jedi knew it to be true. The One Sith was crumbling and yet that mattered quite little in the affairs of the Galaxy, another nation would take its place, new territories would be discovered and boundaries pushed - it was the way of life, it was the eternal cycle of dark and light.

One day the Alliance, too, would fall and make way for a new dominant threat of the Darkside.

"All we can do is stay vigilant, continue to train and ensure we do not become as corrupted as the Republic had in the last of their days."

No, Sardun ignored the chuckles and snorts displayed by his current companion. He wasn't surprised how much bitterness resided in her, but it did concern him. A pathway to the Darkside... a shortcut could appear, if only the right amount of pressure was exercised.

 

[Myra Arceneau Dashiell]

Location: The Hydian Way, aboard The Flame, Enroute to Tyus Cluster
Posts: 27
Objective: Play with older sis's hair!! [member="Lily Kuhn"]
Theme: Dirty Souls

---

Shyly peeking over Lily's shoulder, Myra would glance at the datapad that her adopted elder sister had just sent a message through. The youngling had no official education on Drumond Kaas, and she was still in the process of accumulating to her surroundings to get any lessons. It was all so fascinating to her.

She was a bright girl none the less. Myra was able to understand general concepts and use her past as a foundation. But how was Lily 'hanging' on someone? She was right here with her!

Her little eyebrows went furrowing forward, and she gave a slightly bemused expression. Cherub lips gave a pucker, and she tried to make sense of it.

Cute was a word she understood. It meant pretty. When Nadja said that Lily was pretty enough for a special boy to talk to her, Myra gave an adamant nod of her head. Yes, she thought to herself. Lily was super pretty. The prettiest ever!

Another phrase came then. Farm boy? Like the farm they now lived in? That, of course, wasn't a farm at all as much as an estate, but that was all that Myra had as a term of reference.

Was being from a farm bad? But they just went to live on one! And it had flowers and she had her own room and there was plenty to run around in!

 

[Isha]

Mhaeli
Crystal Gathering
[member="Kana Truden"] [member="Michael Sardun"]
| 28 |

---

Knight Varek would lead the way into the greater chamber, passing the bioluminescent cavern lake to their right. Isha stayed behind, ensuring that all of the padawans and knights wouldn't get lost and provide guidance.

It was then that two other figures came into view. Holding her lightsaber aloft as a beacon of illumination, Isha gave a small incline of her head, the large olive ears giving a slight twitch of her head.

They were both unfamiliar to her, so she gave a word of greeting.

"Careful of steps, you should be." the Yodaling explained, indicating that the path was a bit more difficult to pass.

 

[Kana Truden]

Post 4
Count:
2 - [member="Owen Holst"]
2 - Kana Truden

---

A tsk forced Kana to part her lips. “You sound just like him.” Kana grinned. “Jacen. If you take away the corruption of the Republic part, anyway.”

“And also, I am not quite sure I am eligible for being called a Master just yet, Master Sardun. Not serene enough.”

Being dealt the particular fate sandwich that Kana had been served, she found no reason to think her complaining unjustified. Yes, as a member of the Order she was supposed to let that go, but quite frankly she was growing more and more certain that it was the past that made her who she was and that it was the past that granted her the strength necesary to go on at the end of the day. Before her phase it had been what drove her to show her father wrong and once the phase had passed it was the urge to ensure what he had envisioned for her would never come true. She was, right now, exactly where she had to be and that was good enough for her.

Footsteps echoed from behind. Kana turned around.

“You must be the people we were assigned to look over.” Kana said, extending her shivering hand for the Yodaling. “I am Kana Truden and this is Jedi Master Sardun of the Jedi Order.”

She still hated the touch of others on her skin, but the harder the feeling tried to stop her, the fiercer Kana gave her effort to push on through. There was something about it that felt dirty, pushed her away as if she wanted to protect herself. Yes, Kana had found exceptions to this but they were few and nested. All of them residing amongst the Circle of Healers. Seamus, Avalore, but not in her life the children.

The idea of children terrified her, nothing about Kana spelled of a good mother and she knew this.

Whether the hand was shaken or not didn’t matter. It was quickly retracted post-action and placed itself at Kana’s hip.

“We’re here for reintegration, I guess you could call it.”

[member="Isha"] // [member="Michael Sardun"]​

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Location: Mhaeli
Objective: Watch Over The Little Ones
|3|

"The title was given to you by the Jedi Order, Master Truden." Sardun observed calmly. "All you can do now is try and live up to what it means, stumbling and tripping aside."

He shrugged.

"All we can do is pick ourselves up again and try to do better next time."

The high-pitched voice pulled at his attention next, he watched as Truden extended her hand and exchanged greetings. Sardun simply inclined his head, before greeting the tiny Ishaling himself.

"Padawan... Isha, was it?" This was the real strength of Michael; it wasn't his supposed skill with the lightsabre nor his passable competence in the Force, no. It was his ability with people, to recognize their worth, to remember them and their dreams, to inspire them with a word or two... a glorified PR representative, then, he pondered with a suppressed wry smile.

"Master Truden has the right of it... community service, Grand Marshal Rhen called, if I recall correctly." Again he shrugged. "I cannot blame him, one has to be careful with trust these days."

[member="Isha"] // [member="Kana Truden"]​

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Location: M'haeli
Post: 19/30
Allies: [member="Alesia Rivas"]
Enemies: Rebellious farmers
Objective: Recruiting locals as Jedi

"Perhaps yousa interesten in managing a real estate office then?" Ugohr asked the Jedi recruit that inquired about opening a business.

"I shall prove the Jedi Code doesn't interfere with running a business location!"

"Yoursa determination issa admirable, but yousa know dat planet better than mesa. Yousa know how big issa need to be, and headquarters will provide da moolah accordingly"

"IGR will effect the purchase of a failing real estate office"

M'haeli is one hex away from the Malastare headquarters. With an office on Dulvoyinn, another one on Coruscant, and yet one more on Elrood, and again on Naboo, Ugohr truly ran an Alliance-wide business. That said, central Alliance could use a location, with their northern and southern bases covered. But he knew that business was one area that Jedi often overlooked, even the main one. Ugohr would have enough confidence that this particular beggar would open an IGR location on M'haeli: being affiliated with the largest real estate company in Alliance space (and probably the galaxy, too) was perhaps a good decision for him to make. Plus the Jedi who wanted to choose his own path as a Jedi based on the cost of his upkeep was also welcome to join the realty team on M'haeli if so he wished. IGR was an example of what Jedi could do with a business and still respect the Jedi Code.

"Also da una who complained about how Jedi cost too much, mesa needen yoursa hep for runnen dat real estate office: yousa will pay for yoursa own upkeep as a Jedi"

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: Tyus Cluster
Post: 2/?

Allies: None out here
Enemies: Event Horizons

Objective: Set up a research and development lab in the cluster

"Arriving on sight," a technician yelled as the tug dropped out of hyperspace at the edge of the cluster. Behind the tug, a Nightshade Research Station, unmanned and not carrying supplies yet, floated serenely. With its arrival though, Taeli gave the order to begin moving through the safe passage that her technicians had discovered was there. They needed to get this station into a stable zone where work could be done on studying these monsters.

Reaching out with the Force, Taeli kept her senses wide for any signs of deviation or dangerous gravity swells that might ensnare them. It would be slow going for all of them, due to wanting every single movement calculated as no one present wanted to find out what happened when one strayed too close to a black hole... not that way anyway. Most people didn't have death wishes to be trapped forever in an event horizon. Slowly, but surely, the frigate carrying the supplies and crew for the station and the tug with its cargo made its way into the cluster of black holes.

 

[Jsc]

Mheali
Holo-practice w/ Rick Pouts p2

Rick went first.

Frap frap frap!

The sounds of his heavy pistol echoed across the long grass. Together they had set up a dozen holo-targets from whence to shoot at. Some where stationary while others moved about in a patrol fashion. Either way. It was still child's play. Rick nailed every target with a cowboy's rugged edge.

"Ha! What do you say to that Blue? Not bad for an old smuggler eh?"

Karen nodded her black helm to his easy style,

"Not bad old man. Now step out of the way and let a real woman shoot."

Pouts gave a bow and Roberts stepped up to the plate. She took aim with her new firearm and quickly snapped off a dozen shots at the targets.

Frap frap frap!

With the use of the Force, not only was she accurate. She was wildly fast too. And yet? She seemed disappointed in the end.

"Darn it Rick. I'm getting slow in my old age."

Pouts just shrugged. It was still a gold-medal effort.

"Nah. It's just a new gun. You're not used to the weight yet. Probably because you only ever use that old carbine of yours. Old habits, ya know."

Karen frowned inside her helm,

"Probably."

"Here. Let me try it. I'll show ya."

Karen handed Rick her pistol and he stepped back up to the line. Aiming down the sights of the unfamiliar pistol and blading his eyes with gusto.

"Okay Blue. Time me."

"Well. When your ready then."

He nodded.

Time to break this new girl in. One trigger pull at a time.

.....

 

[Isha]

Mhaeli
Crystal Gathering
[member="Kana Truden"] [member="Michael Sardun"]
| 29 |

---

"Masters Truden... Master Sardun." the Yodaling would incline her head, bringing her saber closer so as to deactivate it. Truth be told, while the saber offered more light, the natural bioluminescence of the moss that coated the walls and the light of the crystals would be enough to see. The group would be able to continue on as such, and if the masters would care to lead, Isha would follow suit.

However, she wasn't quite sure what they meant by rehabiliation.

"Harmed or unwell are you?" her violet eyes would widen in mild concern. "To the Circle of Healers we must go if injury is present." Isha had not come in contact with any one who had been rehabilitated from the Darkside, so this was completely new to her.

 

[Choli Vyn]

AGGRAW
Location: The Weary Traveler Cantina
Objective: Do your own thing - Chillin' with Rogues and Scoundrels
Allies: [member="Alexandra Russo"] 1, [member="Aedan Lochlan"] 2, [member="Tela Uolmi"] 3, [member="Loske Matson"] 5, [member="Cal Sedaire"] 6, [member="Choli Vyn"] 7, [member="Vale Endriss"] 8, [member="Asmus Janes"] 9, [member="Lucius Varad"] 12,[member="Allyson Locke"] 13, [member="Owen Holst"] 14, [member="Devyn Lynton"] 17, [member="Zark"], [member="Logen Brunner"]
Enemies: Bar brats

|30|

---

"Ahh..." how to really answer that? Choli gave a wince, curling her lips back to bare her teeth, a slight sound of sucking coming when she drew in air. Blood was already splattering on his shirt and knowing Janes, he wasn't going to be too happy about that.

"Kinda... okay.." a lie, but for now they needed to give him something to stanch the bleeding. "Need something..." looking around, the Rogue went scrambling to search for napkins. She found a few brown squares, extending her hand to hand it to their Second in Command as he desperately went reaching for them to try and stop the flow.

His voice became rather nasal then.

"I think... we should perhaps go see a medic..." glancing around she'd pan her gaze over the groaning crowd.

"Or at the very least get out of here." a few of the Rogues were already leaving, taking a few stumbling steps out. That's when her eyes locked upon someone new. Someone unfamiliar -- [member="Zark"].

"Hey you!" she waved him over, "Yeah you! Could you come help a bit?'

 

[Asmus Janes]

[member="Choli Vyn"] [member="Zark"]

"Oh come ong!" Asmus sighed as he fingered the bridge of his nose. Very carefully he ran a fingertip down its length. The ceiling of the bar was still spinning.

"Seens almogst straigh'," he said hopefully as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Those were the last words he would try for a little while. His eyes betrayed a fear that hadn't been there when he'd taken up arms against the mountainous houk.

He looked over at the prone heap of muscle and blubber. It was still out cold on the floor. In fact he thought it might have been snoring.

 

[Jsc]

Mheali
Holo-practice w/ Rick Pouts p3

Rick pulled the trigger twelve times. Each time he hit the target. Slow and steady.

Frap. Frap. Frap.

He wanted to test out this new pistol of Karen's too. It seemed just the ticket. Not too heavy, not to loud. It didn't get too hot nor did it recoil like a bantha either. I guess the downside was it's lack of stopping power. But that was hard to judge when you where using holo-targets. Only something a bit more solid would tell, for sure.

He withdrew his gaze from the pistol's sights and nodded to the field. Twelve targets. Twelve hits. Nice.

"Looks good Blue. Not as much power as I was expecting for one of your guns? You going soft on me in your old age eh?"

She placed her hands on her hands and waved away the question,

"It's just a tinker gun Rick. I've still got all my big ones at home. Fear not."

Pouts shrugged and stepped down from the block. Handing her back her gun.

"Well. It's a fine toy then. Perfect for slumming around the local farmers I guess. Though. It won't do much against these Sith Lords I keep hearing about."

Karen placed the gun back in her holster. Nodding to his quip,

"You don't use a blaster against a Sith Lord anyway, Pouts. For that you use a Turbolaser."

He smirked,

"Ha! Figures. You Jedi people and your 'super superior' ways. Pfft. Hokey religions and ancient weapons..."

"...Are no match for a good blaster at your side. Right Rick?"

He frowned. Nobody finishes his sentences! Nobody.

"Pfft. Something like that. Frickin' mind readers."

"Something like that."

Karen smiled. If he only knew.

"Come on then. Gather up your targets and I'll buy you lunch on the way back. We past a good BBQ place on our way out here. I want to try it out."

"Whatever you say Blue. I'll meet you there in a jiffy."

With a growing smile on their faces, the two heroes shook hands and made for their vehicles. It was almost lunch time. Yum.

.....

 

[Ugohr Poof]

Location: M'haeli
Post: 20/30
Allies: [member="Alesia Rivas"]
Enemies: Rebellious farmers
Objective: Recruiting locals as Jedi

Ugohr brought his horde of new Jedi recruits ripe to be assigned to masters to a local real estate office that fit the description the would-be Jedi businessman made of his new workplace. After all, saving the livelihoods of people threatened by their workplaces going under was part of the Jedi teachings. M'haeli had limited GMLS access, and clearly this real estate office, somewhere else in the city compared to the slums that inhabited it, has seen better days. These Jedi have realized that it is best not to enter the premises en masse. Ugohr is followed by his two would-be Padawans, looking for the manager of that real estate office. The Jedi realtors were more than but the others were a little anxious to know who their new masters were going to be, and had no interest in financial industries. Never would they imagine being taken to a realtor office as part of their Jedi training: some of them thought that life in the Jedi Order was incompatible with business, others wanted nothing better than to play cat-and-mouse against Sith Marauders.

"Yousa stayen out of dis: disen affair issa between mesa, da other two Padawans dat cared about moolah and them" he told the rest of the Jedi recruits.

"Roger"

"Mesa Ugohr Poof, and wesa needen to talk about yoursa business: mesa have an offer yousa cannot refuse"

"And who... are you to make such an offer?"

"IGR Brokerage, da largest realty corporation in Alliance space"

 

[LT-137]

++ Location: Arrgaw ++​

Objective: Honour​

Allies: The Galactic Alliance​

Enemies: Unknown Robed Assailants​

Post Count: Six​

​

The world was closing in on him, narrowing to the point that held only the flicker of the Assassin’s blade, and the moment after it. This was his domain. It was as much a part of him as the brackish air in his lungs, and the iron flowing through his veins. Gideon’s eyes narrowed as the movement of time had became leaden, thickening as oil would when poured over ice. The fibrous musculature of his fingers began to tighten as his hands coiled into fists, and the former Stormtrooper listened to the beat of his thunderous heart slowly pulsating to stillness. Weighed down by the soldier’s perception, the shadow shrouded Assassin had lunged forward with his blade of blood-soaked and knapped obsidian, seeking to claim another life with a fatal blow. A simple sidestep had seen the pointed rock plunge into nothing but air. It was a clumsy strike that reeked of desperation, and it was Gideon’s turn to teach the fool not to overextend his reach. Tightened flesh and bone smashed against the hidden features of the Soldier’s assailant, washing his knuckles in a torrent of congealing crimson fluid. The Assassin reeled, taken aback by the ferocity and force of such an agonizing connection, and spat a bloody gobbet of phlegm to the dust-caked ground.

“Is that…” The Shade had said, wiping a hand across his shrouded features - smearing blood across his pale lips. “All the fury you can muster?”

It was a ploy to distract him, and as such it had almost worked. Gideon had almost given into his primal desires and unleashed the beast that was chained within his heart. He would’ve leaped into the fray, uncaring of the advantage that his opponent retained and tore the man limb from limb, only to die from blood loss scant seconds after. That wasn’t an acceptable outcome, especially when there was a war on. Instead, the former Stormtrooper let his lips curl into an insidious grin, betraying his amusement in such an insipid jest to rile his humors. He let the man recover, almost as if he was toying with his newfound prey. It wouldn’t be fun, nor fair, if he had not allowed the Assassin a moment of respite - the battle would be over far too quickly, and the Soldier would be left wanting more.

When the Shade had halted his ragged expiration, the man attacked again. This time, instead of making the attempt to gut his foe, he sought to cleave him in twain, cutting him from the collarbone to navel. But, as the obsidian knife whistled through the air, it’s path was halted by the tensed grip of a monster wrought in the taut flesh of a man. Gideon’s fingers grasped the fist of the Assassin and the blade he bore, clamping down with all the might his arm could muster. The shock of the impact rolled down his bulging arm and ignited a proverbial fire within the fibers of his bicep. A sensation that the Soldier enjoyed, relishing it with every beat of the war drum within his breast. His teeth clenched together as Gideon twisted the Assassin’s wrist, sending spirals of agony through the man’s limb and driving him to his knees with a swift kick to the back of his knees.

The soldier followed through, slamming a knee into the man’s chest, before driving the other onto the blade bound wrist. That had caused the man to howl in pain, to struggle and thrash against his former victim’s punishing embrace. Gideon dug his knee deeper, and deeper into the man’s wrist, forcing his grip on the knapped blade to loosen - eventually letting go to alleviate the bone crunching pressure place on his articulating joint. With the weapon free of the Assassin’s grip, he lifted the surprisingly hefty ritual knife from the splayed, pallid fingers of the man pinned beneath him. A flicker of recognition flashed through his mind, threatening to overtake the present with the ashen revenants of the past. He had seen this blade once before, or at least the man believed he did. It was similar to the athame that his Sith Lord had borne, used in the creatures dark rituals and had even been his demise when Gideon betrayed him.

Blinking once to liberate his mind of such cantrips, the Soldier turned towards the Assassin and leaned in close. Through spittle-flecked teeth, he came eye to eye with the man that sought to claim his life. Moments of silence had passed when their gazes collided, allowing the mechanical whir of Gideon’s augmented eyes to peer through the darkness of the Shade’s hood. His features, though caked in his own blood, were patrician; denoting the status of his birth and marking him as one of the aristocracy. What could’ve driven such a noble-born son to adopt the world of darkness and betrayal? To be true, it didn’t matter. Gideon could care less as to why the man had chosen the path of cloaks and daggers. He was an enemy that had slain a foolish, but beloved brother in arms. This man, no matter what claims to fame he held when not shrouded in shadows, would pay for his sins in blood.

Fanning his grip around the athame, feeling the lingering memories surrounding this all too familiar blade surge towards the forefront of his mind, the Soldier placed the weapon above the nape of the Assassin’s neck. It was there that he left it, hanging just millimeters above the quivering flesh. With a bestial growl bubbling out of his throat, Gideon felt the knapped obsidian blade slide across the paper-thin surface of its own accord, driven by the primal instinct that raged within the enamel cage. He couldn’t control himself as the geyser erupted from the gushing crevasse, painting him in the waters of life. This was his domain. It was where he belonged, and fought against every moment of his meager existence. This was what he feared, what kept him awake on many a sleepless night. And as he stared down at the gurgling bag of meat beneath his knee, Gideon knew that this scene had etched itself onto his very soul, becoming yet another nightmare to deprive him of sleep. There would be no rest for the wicked.

As the soldier felt the last vestiges of life pour out from the Assassin’s body, he leaned in closer and whispered in the dying man’s ear. His voice, usually low and measured, was filled with barely constrained violence. It was akin to the sound of mountains crumbling, cursed by the wear of gravity and time.

“You know nothing of Fury...”​

 

[Republic Engineering]

Location: Arrgaw, High Orbit.
Objective: (Two) Love and Death; Hand in Hand.
Allies: The Galactic Alliance, Rogue Squadron.
Enemies: Liz the Fourth Lover and His Bloody Buccaneer's.

The image that danced across her tactical display had shifted from moment to moment, providing the Fleet Admiral with an updated representation of the battle that encompassed the entirety of her Star Defender. Miniscule lights flickered and blossomed into flowers of fire as missiles were intercepted by the hail of spent ammunition, cast out into the void with reckless abandon. Her vessel’s guns spoke with thunderous applause, cutting a swathe through the smaller craft that sought to swarm her iron-flesh. The ‘In Midnight Clad’ roared in the silence of space as it pushed through the staggered orbital defense line, the heat wash from her engines bathing the metallic corpses left behind in her wake. It was a charming touch that the Hapan Admiral had enjoyed, and as a result had curled her disfigured lips into a nearly feral grin. What better way to destroy your enemy, than to mock the ashes of their bones? No one would remember them. Even in her logs, whenever she got around to generating them, would list the pirates and their ragged flotilla as nothing more than a footnote. A minor trifle that was swiftly dealt with, as her gunnery crews relished the target rich environment.

Salvo upon salvo of weapons fire had painted the bespeckled canvas of night with vibrant hues of emeralds and sapphires. The sight, though depicted in the flickering shades of the azure hologram, was enticing. The Fleet Admiral was entranced by the proverbial scythe that her Dreadnaught had swung, cleaving lesser vessels in twain with every thunderously mute barrage. Was this what a God felt like? She asked herself as the battle unfolded before her. Did they feel such elation when their terrible wroth was brought to bear upon those that doubted their deities awesome might? In this secular age, it was unlikely that she would ever get the answer to such a question, but as more and more lights had begun to flicker and fade - Astarii felt that she didn’t need religion to garner such a resolution. Instead, the woman felt like the key was staring at her the entire time. She was a God, in the sense that an entire Warship had worshiped her tactical acumen, and those arrayed before her were heathens, unbelievers in the grandest of ways.

Astarii chuckled softly as her errant mind had taken her down such an interesting path. There were no such things as Gods. There were no wailing mourners pouring wine over presumed tombs of those that were considered divine. There were no altars at which the masses would pray for salvation, as the plague feasted upon their very flesh. No; There were no Gods, save the ones that we, as sentient creatures make. We hand over the power of life and death to those that we do not know, nor perhaps ever see. We give them the chance to revel in the thrill of severing another’s mortal coil. And thus, we label them with celestial titles and liken them to what they’re not. It’s a foolish endeavor, but to some - more simple minded fools - it helps ground them in reality as their mind struggles to accept what is real, and what could never be.

Thus, as bubbling explosions of venting atmosphere rippled across the iron flesh of a hostile frigate, the Fleet Admiral’s smile had only grown. The title of War had belonged to another, but as the metallic corpses of vessel after vessel burned around her, Astarii knew that if she were ever to be labeled as a God by her groveling subordinates - it would be of Death.

 

[LT-137]

Location: Arrgaw - The Weary Traveler
Allies: The Galactic Alliance, Rogue Squadron
Objective: [DO YOUR OWN THING] - Rest, Recover, Reunite.
Post Count: 7/25

[SIZE=14.6667px]His gaze was affixed elsewhere, denying him the sight of the young Choli rushing off to assist one of their fallen number. As the events of the last few moments had played out within the misty haze of his conscious mind, Lucius knew that if it were not for the spry epicanthix pilot, he would’ve been in a similar situation to those Rogues that had fallen to the floor. If not worse with the extent of his injuries. With the events of the past catching up to the present and his thoughts settling on what the future would hold, the Silver Scholar pushed his compatriot towards the bar, ducking under a wild right hook that would’ve tipped him arse over tea kettle. He could feel the thought of retaliation form, something that if he followed through with, found find him walking down a path from which it was unlikely that he would ever return. Yes, he was all right with killing, but Lucius was never the man to strike first - nor act on the primal notion of petty vengeance. That was a path for lesser men to follow. Let them become consumed by their burning desires. They would all find their redemption, in the end, be it at the end of a lightsaber or through the path of salvation.

Nevertheless, when the man came around for another strike, Lucius forcibly turned aside the clenched fist with the back of his bandaged hand. The blow followed through on momentum alone and saw yet another bestial figure brought into the fray. He would’ve smiled at such a turn of fate, but knew better. Instead, he shook his head and tutted. The pilot had perpetuated the cycle of violence and ended up causing more patrons to batter one another with their fists. Had he a Master, it was likely that they would be very - very cross with him once they had learned what he had done. There was nothing he could do now, those that surrounded him, even the man he sought to buy a drink, were trading punches with one another. He was a Dove, trodding amongst Ravens, and left to his own devices yet again. He had grown accustomed to such a sensation before the Sith took him captive, and as that all too familiar feeling crept back into his mind - Lucius felt alone.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]He couldn’t fight, and it’d be foolish even to try. Thus the chance for him to brawl with his comrades were next to zero. However, there was something he could do, something that could make him useful - despite his crippling injuries. Rousing his violet gaze from the brawling pair writhing on the booze soaked floor, he had seen someone dragging his fellow Rogue towards the door and sought to lend a hand. Pushing his way once more through the tumultuous melee, the Silver Scholar reached the man he would later refer to as Captain, and had placed a firm hand on his shoulder.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I’ve got him,” Lucius said with a pleasant smile. “Your destiny calls you elsewhere.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]His prophetic words hung heavily in the silence, as the young Choli had called out for aid, her words cutting a swathe through the crowd and falling upon both Zark’s and the Wounded Rogue’s ears. Allowing his smile to grow ever wider, Lucius slipped his bandaged arm underneath his comrade's shoulder and had taken his weight with nothing more than a grunt of effort.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Don’t worry about us; I’ll take him to see a Medic. You’ve got a good heart and capable hands, help the others.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]| [member="Owen Holst"] | [member="Choli Vyn"] | [member="Zark"] |[/SIZE]​

 

[Aerion Ivelisse]

Location: Arrgaw, Coming out of Hyperspace.
Objective: Two.
Allies: Members of the Galactic Alliance.
Enemies: Liz the Fourth and Goonies.
Post Eleven.

Aerion strode back and forth on the bridge of High Command's Prototype Warship.

So there was a battle? Guess this is the first engagement I won't physically be apart of.

He audibly groaned as he watched Captain Jax stand in the centre of the Bridge, a clear Commander of Navy Battles. He had been pestering the man after he had learned his station on the ship was solidified. He had served on Zaren Bouqi's, his Father's ship for a few years. When Zaren had disappeared into the growing Galactic Alliance to make a home for both Aerion and himself, his long time friend, Jax Hastings had remained in the Galactic Republic. Fighting. Many battles he had fought against the One Sith, though none of his actions had been notable.

Sure, he had saved lives. Bought enough time for others to retreat and disappear. When battles had clearly been lost, he did the unthinkable more times than not. Go down into the atmosphere of the planet and gather as many civilians and combatants as he could before barely escaping the planet's gravity well and then jumping into hyperspace. A foolish thing to do. The Republic's High Command had been tired of him, but he did what was necessary to save lives. He was a laid back man, allowing the Jedi Padawan to interrupt him whenever, however he wanted to.

Over the last few days those interruptions had become fewer. Not only was the Captain's place cemented on the ship, Aerion's position was also cemented. There was no getting away from this job.

And then they dropped out of hyperspace, in the middle of a battle.

"Guns forward," Hastings ordered, commanding voice ripping through the tumult of reports being thrown in every direction. Plenty of information was scrolling across a tactical screen in front of the both of them. IFF tags identified who was who, and once Captain Jax was satisfied that targets had been located, he finally gave the order. "Fire!"

And the entirety of the ship's payload exploded from the Prototype.

"Sir! Shields are low!"

"All the firepower is bringing down our power levels!"

"Launch warheads."

 

[Allyson Locke]

Where ever Asmus and Choli are...

Allyson weaseled her way out and found [member="Asmus Janes"] and [member="Choli Vyn"]. It was apparent that Asmus had caught the wrong end of a fist or something. Chuckling, she couldn't help it and decided to make a joke that probably wasn't completely wanted by the pretty pilot she hung around with. A grin spread so wide as she sauntered up to them. Owen of course didn't get the best deal either, but he was in worse shape than Asmus. Poor kid, she watched as Zark dragged the boy out of the bar. So her full attention was on Asmus and the other female pilot. She hadn't interacted with the other girl before, but for the most part Asmus trusted her. In turn, Allyson wouldn't be too much of a problem.

"Asmus~" She called out to him as she fixated herself near the two. "Ey, looks like someone beat you with an ugly stick, that's going to be crooked....nice curve to the left..." Tapping her chin, she decided to possibly make matters worse, but hopefully make the man laugh a bit.

"At least it would match right? Always to the left." A wink and the grin remained. Which, the grin was now flashed towards Choli, mostly to keep things friendly for the most part...right?

 

[Aerion Ivelisse]

Location: Arrgaw, Orbit of the planet.
Objective: Two.
Allies: Members of the Galactic Alliance.
Enemies: Liz the Fourth and Goonsquad.
Post: Twelve.

As the warship drew closer to the opposing pirates, the amount of damage that splashed across their shields increased as well.

Every now and then the ship shook, but one reassuringly look from Jax Hastings was enough to assure Aerion that they weren't in danger. Not yet anyway. The ship had evolved much since they had first met upon it. Its shields were made more powerful, and its hull was certainly thicker. Faster than it had any right of being, the Jedi Padawan figured.

The tactical display illustrated the battlefield. The only thing that he could truly understand was their ship on the screen. And from it were smaller ships. No, wait, those were actually missiles. A faint outline of crimson around them before they disappeared on the display. He had come to learn that when that happened it was because the warhead detonated. Of course, he couldn't distinguish as to whether it had made contact with its target, or if it had been shot out of the sky - space? Prematurely. Well, the last one was fairly obvious when it disappeared nowhere near what the IFF tags designated as enemy ships.

Primarily armed for long-range combat, they had stopped moving once all of their weapons were in range. Long-range turbolasers? They were belting out those ruby and emerald coloured bolts of plasma at the enemy.