Diplomacy Pt. 1.5 - Licking Our Wounds (Anaxes, Alliance/High Republic)

[Spirit of Patience]

Immediately after Chaos Rising Pt. 1
Azure Sector // Anaxes Station // Anaxes​

Ships running evacuation from Brentaal to Anaxes were attaching and detaching from the orbital station that served as an intermediary between the two planets. Quarantine was in effect for all civilian survivors of the disaster on Brentaal IV. Survivors were being funnelled through the station to the medical facilities for examinations - where they underwent tedious checks to confirm their health.

Once equipped with proof of the doctor’s approval, civilians were then allowed to be rerouted planetside. Most everyone was passing, which was perplexing to those taking the tests -- the origin of the travesty they’d seen below still unknown. Originally, they’d suspected it was a resurgence of the Blackwing virus, but with more and more civilians aceing their physicals that plausibility was becoming less of an option.

Those that passed their examinations were then redirected from the medical facilities and kept in a waiting area. Aid was administered in terms of food and blankets. Every hour or so -- time felt irrelevant at this point -- a shuttle would carry a new group of passengers from the station to Anaxes, the fortress world below.

Despite it’s incredible size and organization, the planet was not impervious to a mass swell in the population - no matter how temporary. Preparations had to be made to allow short term support for the incoming Brentaal population. The sheer mass of persons alone couldn’t be easily reallocated throughout The Core--moving bodies around wasn’t a sustainable solution. Brentaal IV was a full quarantine zone.

The orbital bombardment was effective for cleansing the city of Vuultin, and a required distraction to allow the remaining evacuation ships to escape the entire planet. However, Brentaal was a large planet at the crossroads of major trade routes. Coordination efforts were required to control and prevent or reroute incoming traffic, and send broadcasting messages to secure the planet as a confined zone.

--​

Basia was trembling. He hadn’t stopped shaking since he’d seen his brother resurrected only hours prior. His eyes were soulless voids, the animation seemed only intent to kill. The moment he’d smashed through their doorway with a hellious bellow, Basia had reeled backward and lost all sense of normalcy. The colour still hadn’t returned to his skin.

“Dad?” A small voice asked, tugging on the hem of his sleeve. “You’re shaking.”

Blinking back to the present, the former shopkeep looked down at his son, wearing a discoloured blanket. Something the station had provided. It was hideous..and..it was all they owned now. The boy beneath the fabric was only seven years old, and he’d had to..witness whatever had just happened. The man's throat tightened with the grim reality of psychological trauma. A shared impact on their culture that everyone would have embedded to their core for years to come.

“Are you scared?”

His hands fidgeted, and he dropped to a knee and placed both palms on the shoulders of his heir. His gentle face mirrored Basia’s own trepidation, the innocence of his big, searching eyes clouded with the reality he’d just witnessed. He was probably trying to seek a way for this to be nothing more than a dream. Or a part of one of his spectacular imagination games. If Basia was a dishonest man, he would have lied. Feigned courage for the benefit of his son’s own resilience and fortitude in the face of the future.

But he wasn’t a dishonest man. He was a very tired man.

“Yes.”

 

[Auteme]

A N A X E S
Tag: Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt ​

---

Suffering and fear hung like smog over the station, threatening to choke those who'd escaped Brentaal -- but Auteme held onto hope. She slipped through the crowds of refugees streaming from the transports, trying to get to the enormous docking area of Anaxes station. The padawan had arrived less than an hour ago on a shuttle from Peace along with a few other Jedi. For the most part they were healers, a few scholars and guardians as well, all here to help. She was supposed to be in the medical bay treating the injured, but something had told her that one of these incoming transports had her friends aboard.

The crowd finally thinned out and Auteme burst out, running towards the docks and quietly kicking herself for knowing nothing about ships, particularly not modern ones. Loske and Ryv flew X-wings, right? Would they even be at a capital ship dock? Or would they be someplace else, one of the smaller hangars? She searched anxiously through the remaining people disembarking into this particular wing of the station.

Still, of all the places it could take her, the Force had brought her here. Well, maybe. She was a bit light-headed from all the running -- this station was huge, and Auteme wasn't all that athletic. But she kept looking, hoping to find someone she knew.

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

Culling Voices

You are not classified as an emergency. Receiving only what could be considered the bare minimum treatment before they docked with Anaxes Station - Maynard was deeply embedded in dire straits. During his entire medical assessment his gaze never strayed from Loske, be that she might've been the object of his contemplation or in his concussed state his blurred vision offered little in the way of a familiar sight. Regardless, after they talked he seemed to stray himself from her. Though he wanted nothing more than to talk to her he got the impression that she needed distance of some form. Idle contemplation might've served her better than it did himself as his mind characteristically drifted to crippling self doubt and ego death more often than not, the bruising concussion and underlying pain through his body made this pattern only far more aggressive.

They lost and they were not merely given a bloody nose, a truly crippling defeat. One which led to the death of innocents, a world despoiled and several under Maynard's command shot down and killed. Though those might've been the least numerous, maybe the least consequential they hit harder than any other. With their bodies unrecoverable it'd be a far more solemn service of what could be managed. The survivors of Saber carried an otherwise joyous disposition in their 'victory' that was surviving at all. Compounded over several real, tangible, physical reasons - Maynard couldn't bare to participate as he usually didn't himself. Inspite of an otherwise energic portrayal over the comms, he was more often than not isolationist in his social patterns.

Baring fresh bruises, marks and lacerations across his face he stepped from the docking he'd have probably eaten durasteel on the last step were Loske not there to pull him with a locked arm. He was aimless and about damn near blind which for a Jedi whose useful skill set began and ended at piloting mean't he was more or less useless, another thing which ate away at him. For now, he didn't speak - too entangled in his own thoughts, feeling almost foolish at what he'd said earlier even if nothing negative came of it.

---

Loske Treicolt | Auteme

 

[Dak]

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station
Gala Geert Leon Gallo Maynard Treicolt
Kazuhira Auteme ​

​

Clearance onto the station was a lot easier for a droid in the current situation. Having been fortunate enough to avoid damage throughout the Battle of Vuultin and lacking an ability to succumb to a possible infection, Dak had only been subject to a standard sterilization procedure before getting the okay. Despite the Ashaton being forced to dock with the Radiance to attempt a risky escape from the system, Dak had chosen to remain aboard the smaller corvette for the brief hyperspace journey. After confirming the status of Gala and the other SIA operatives, he'd elected to retreat into isolation to contemplate what had taken place.

The droid steps down from the ramp exiting the battlecruiser's docking bay, following a few steps behind the pilots and others who had been cleared in their number section. Dak watches Loske silently and carefully, trying to read the brief glimpses of her face from behind her to discern whether she was aware of what had happened to Cedric or not. Unfortunately, everything seemed too gloomy to tell for certain. She had also lost a friend, he knew.

Cedric's apprentice. Ryv. Both were lost now.

Dak's heavy steps clank against the station's metal tiles, then stop. The droid looks out across the vast common area of this wing of the station's docking terminal. People were still flooding in from every single gate thanks to the efforts of the Anaxsi-Imperial Battlefleet and some brave civilian captains. The atmosphere may be a dismal one with little hope to find, but it was still a sight to behold. Tens of thousands of lives had been spared -- maybe more. Although the droid found himself incapable of disregarding the significant loss of life that he projected in his calculations, he does his best to divert his attention to the silver lining, as organics called it.

"Are you sure you don't require additional medical attention, Gladio?" his receptors break away from Loske and Maynard as they grow farther away, instead turning to the mirialan he had been assigned with throughout the entirety of the developing situation.

 

[Gala Geert]

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station
Leon Gallo // Kazuhira // Dak ​

Someone'd rapped her head to get her to wake up after the explosion, and then shone a really bright light right in her eyes. There was a limited medical team on board The Ashaton, but someone deduced that she had a minor concussion. The blast had knocked her upside the head. When she spoke back to the person with the flashlight, it sounded like a recording of herself. The pain started ramping up.

She closed her eyes and focused on her breath for the rest of the ride to wherever they were going. Didn't care, so long as it was far away from zombie spawn.

--

She held up a hand to Dak to act as a barrier for his concerns. Did droids have concern? This metallic fellow was curious indeed. At the most, she felt a little bit woozy. It was likely a combination of running off fumes since Tepasi, and the knocking her brain had done against her skull.

"I don't need anyone poking around to tell me what I already know." Flashlight guys' diagnosis was good enough for her. Usually, she'd have left the sentiment at that but she took a moment to draw in the sights, although painted with a shadowy-vignette in her peripherals. There were swarms of people who were scared, some bleeding all over the place. Far more critical than anyone aboard their ship, that was for certain.

Drawing in a deep breath, she exhaled loudly and turned to the other agent. By now, she'd grown used to his alarmingly red gaze. "What happens now, you reckon? Think we'll be able to get a little sleep?"

The volume of her sentence faded while she looked around again, craning her neck for some sort of official who might be in charge. "Hmm, we should also probably check in somewhere so they know who to give survival bonuses to."

 

[Leon Gallo]

Leon hadn't had much of a good trip. No one aboard the Ashaton had. Most were injured in some way, but the young Jedi had gotten off lightly in that regard. Everyone was shaken by what they had seen, exceot perhaps Dak . After the corvette had managed to escape the planet's atmosphere, Leon had stumbled off to find the most private area he could. He'd sat there through out the trip to Anaxes, sometimes crying, sometimes silent. He felt numb now that all the addrenaline was gone. But he also felt angry, mainly at himself. Angry for every life lost on that planet he couldn't save.

When they'd docked he was given a quick examination by a medic before discharge. He hadn't been injured besides a few scratches and bruises, so he understood. Others needed that help far more than he did. Leon was free to wander the station for the most part. He knew next to no one here. He recognized a pilot from the race on Vulpter, but she seemed occupied. Gala Geert and Dak were talking nearby, and those two were the only one the young Jedi recognized. He'd met both for the first time during his escape from an apartment building with refugees. Gala seemed injured and out of it, so Leon chose not to bother them. Instead he began to wade through the crowd of evacuees.

Faces surrounded the Jedi as he walked. Each was awash with despair. Some cried for their lost loved ones, others embraced what they had left. Some just sat, silent. These ones hurt Leon the most. They were trying to stay strong amongst all the sorrow, be it out of habit or to give their family a rock to rest upon. Only a handful seemed to have hope in their eyes. One boy in particular seemed to have a fire burning in his heart for the brief moment Leon met eyes with him. The Jedi didn't stop to make conversation. He just let himself move about the crowd with no real direction.


Dak Gala Geert Maynard Treicolt Loske Treicolt Auteme

 

[Dak]

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station
Gala Geert Leon Gallo Maynard Treicolt
Kazuhira Auteme ​

​

The droid offers a nod at Gala's suggestion. He may not need sleep, but a few uninterrupted minutes to evaluate the series of happenings they had been dealing with for days would certainly be valuable. There were many calculations that Dak's processors were running in the background: estimated death tolls, possible secondary targets for the invading forces, logical defensive actions. Despite these, the one the droid found himself checking on the most was simple; the statistical likelihood of P Placeholder 0128 Grayson's survival.

"Captain Vod has chosen to remain aboard the Ashaton," he replies, pulling himself from his thoughts "He and his crew have additional objectives to complete after offloading the survivors. I imagine they will gather some supplies from the Radiance and depart shortly," he turns his head to look out of the large transparisteel window above the gate they had exited, to the sight of the massive 5km Dictator-class battlecruiser that was docked with the station.

The Radiance -- the flagship of the Azure Sector Group and lead vessel of the 1st Anaxsi-Imperial Battlefleet.

"This vessel is commanded by High Admiral Callaesar, if I recall," his receptors catch the sight of Leon stepping down from the ramp and follow him as he finishes his sentence "an officer of his caliber is likely the highest authority here. We should speak with him whenever he emerges."

Dak hastily wraps up his final words in order to call out to Leon, hoping to catch him before he gets to far away.

"Leon," he looks back to Gala and motions for her to follow as he moves to approach the Jedi Knight "there are other members of the Jedi Order here." He looks off toward Loske and Maynard, catching another few Jedi throughout the crowd "You have been through a lot. There are those here who owe their survival to your efforts. You saved families -- children. It is not recommended for humans to spend prolonged periods in isolation following traumatic events. I recommend you find comfort with your brothers and sisters of the Order."

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Azure Sector // Anaxes Station // Anaxes
Maynard Treicolt // Auteme // Soon: Leon Gallo
take me away from here
​

“Woah, jeeze, you’re better in the sky.” Loske mumbled, buoying her own weight to counter the slip of her friend at the end of the ramp. They’d fallen into a mutual silence while navigating through the crowds to off board The Radiance after his diagnosis. She would have liked to think she hadn’t noticed but..she had. Truthfully, she was too tired to really do anything about it. Her own thoughts were too loud to try and speak above them and her heart was just a numbness behind her ribs. It took everything she had to stay awake and as helpful as Maynard needed her to be.

A familiar face, not one Loske had expected to see, poked out from the crowds. Auteme’s blunt haircut and virtuous face stood out from the back of everyone else’s heads. While most were trying to get away from the ports, the lone Jedi Padawan had cut through the crowds. She bore an expectant, searching expression.

The blonde’s emotions were mixed. Which wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling since landing aboard The Radiance after Brentaal. The knot in her stomach never went away, and seeing someone so comparatively normal and unaffected by what had just happened made that twist in her gut tighten, and her cheeks feel hollow. That familiar pre-nausea feeling.

The blonde personification of meliorism used her free arm to wave in the other Padawan’s direction to catch her attention: “Auteme!” There was nothing worse than standing around and looking for someone you never found. Ryv.

By the time the three Jedi were in close enough proximity to make introductions, Loske maneuvered herself from supporting May, though being cautious not to let him fall over, and wrapped her arms around the shoulders of the other youth, pulling her in for a tight hug. Relief suffused her bones, as if just seeing someone from the other side hadn’t been enough, touching her was a good reminder that there was more beyond the isolated issue within The Core.

She drew back, checking in on May again with a sheepish shrug. Fatigue was plain on both the pilot’s faces, that would be easy to identify - especially since neither of them were putting forth any effort to conceal it. It was an expression most exhibited while navigating through the station.

“You’re here! When..what was the message that went out?” Everyone needed so much help. ”Have you met Maynard?”

---

Frank had been redirected so many times in his pursuit of Cassius Callaesar , that he resolved to wait at the end of the landing ramp. Eventually the captain would emerge. And if he didn't, Frank would try again, wheeling through the corridors of The Radiance to the command room and preparing himself to barge through the doors. If only he weren't so...squat.

 

[Auteme]

A N A X E S
Tag: Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt ​

---

"Loske!" As soon as the other padawan came into view Auteme rushed over to give her friend a hug. Not too tight and not too long, though, as she saw the state Loske was in and the state of the person she was helping out. As soon as Auteme pulled out of their quick embrace she took up the boy's other arm, helping Loske support him as they began to move into the station.

Of course she was looking for Ryv, too, but she was sure that he was off helping others someplace, or maybe even on one of the last ships -- this surely couldn't be everyone on Brentaal, could it? Nevermind. For now she focused on these two weary padawans. In truth they were more tired than they should have been. Auteme could feel it; she could feel the fear and pain held by many aboard the station. But she refused to give up hope. She was here to help, after all, and how bad could things here truly be?

Auteme decided to answer the second question first, as it seemed more immediate. "No, I haven't. Hi Maynard, I'm Auteme. How are you injured?" She didn't see any blood or evidence of broken bones, mostly scrapes and bruises... but that on its own shouldn't have been enough to make him so unbalanced. It could be a concussion. The Force told her she was probably on the right track. "I can heal you at the infirmary, alright?"

She looked over at Loske next. "They said that people here need help, after monsters appeared and devastated Brentaal. I thought they could use an extra healer," she said, giving a slight shrug and smile. Auteme wasn't a master healer, but she wasn't bad, and she was willing to help out. "What happened down there? And where's Ryv? I haven't heard anything about him, but this seems like the kind of thing he'd be fighting."

 

[Cassius Callaesar]

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station
Loske Treicolt Leon Gallo Maynard Treicolt
Kazuhira Auteme ​

​

A ten-man squad of the Defense Force Navy's Marines donning full Shocktrooper Armour emerges from the gateway connecting to the Radiance. They appear to be on guard, but their rigid formation is more of a precautionary one, as they appear to be covering a decorated individual at the center.

Following a sweeping gaze of the area immediately surrounding the gate, the marine at the head of the group raises a hand to the side of his helmet thumb the key for his comm-link <<Gateway secure. Moving package to Command.>>

One of the others behind him responds, <<Copy that Resh-One>>

"That's quite enough," the voice in the middle of the team interrupts their flow, prompting them to turn their heads inward to the officer. The High Admiral stands among them visibly tired and distraught, with his typically well-kept hair a mess and dark, heavy eyes "I don't need an escort through my own damn station."

<<Sir, we're just following protoc->>

"Does any of this look like the simulations, Sergeant?" Cassius interrupts, looking between the troopers to the crowds of refugees and the limited staff trying to corral and treat them. The knot in his stomach twists when he finds himself counting the numbers. There were still so many people left behind. Left to die. Likely thousands killed by his order alone.

The marine waivers for a moment, finding himself at an impasse between the High Admiral's desires and their standard operating procedures for emergency situations like these <<N-no sir. But,>>

The Tepasi's eyes dart back to the Sergeant with a piercing glare, the crows feet at the corners of his eyes and few wrinkles of his brown emphasizing the expression of his frustration "How about you make yourselves truly useful and sling those weapons. Go help the station staff move people around and establish some designated areas for triage and those stuck in the relocation process. Get other squads on it too; have central send some food and supplies from Pols Anaxes immediately."

Realizing the commanding officer would not be willing to protest a third time, the marine snaps to attention and offers a salute <<Yes sir. You heard the orders; let's go Resh Squad.>>

As the marines break their formation and head down the ramp a small and peculiarly placed astromech catches Cassius' attention. He wanted nothing more than to move forward -- truth be told, he wanted nothing more than to try to forget about with the help of some aged Phattro. That haunting moment of no return had been playing on repeat in his mind since it'd happened. He had barely been able to bring himself to watch as the clouds rose from the surface, but he felt he owed those he'd damned that much at least. His own punishment.

He'd never forget it.

Still, duty calls. With things so uncertain there was no excuse to not be cautious to some degree. Conceding, he calls out to the droid from where he stands "You there -- astrogation droid. State your designation & authorization numbers, and your business being here."

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

You're better in the sky. In the wake of Maynard all but torching his X-Wing in the nearly fatal crash not hours before it was a remark that carried double meaning from Loske. Was crashing better than stumbling? There wasn't all too much that might've been able to lift Maynard's spirits now where her words might've very well been able to just that in different circumstances.

"Yeah - hey. " Maynard said solemnly, clearly out of it when he spoke to Auteme, his vision clouded over as his head still rattled from the concussion sustained from the crash. When she offered to heal he graciously accepted if only with a nod from himself, clinging to Loske's arm with his as he nearly lost his footing once more. Though most of the blood was cleaned off, his cheeks and face bared the signs of fresh lacerations from shattered glasteel.

When she asked about Ryv his heart bottomed out once more. He felt sick, not from the wounds themselves but from the shear crushing reality of everything that'd just occurred over the course of the last day.

"Ryv? He-...I don't-" He was barely able to manage the words out. Somehow speaking to Loske not minutes earlier he held his composure...but now? It was all seeming to come into fruition in how it effected his emotions.

"I- we didn't see him make it out." Maynard said flatly- his voice drained.

---

Loske Treicolt | Auteme | Cassius Callaesar | Leon Gallo

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

With Miri clinging to his hand, Nimdok looked much like any other refugee entering the overcrowded station. He knew it wasn't a good idea to bring a child into this situation, but given his current circumstances, he had little choice but to keep her near him. One more little girl wasn't going to tip the scales any more than they were already unbalanced.

A message intended for Casimir Heliobas had been sent out prior to the battle as the Alliance requested aid from all their known allies. But Heliobas could not answer. That didn't stop Nimdok from feeling some degree of guilt at his - well, Heliobas' - failure to show up, and his regrets only began to pile higher as the jumbled, outlandish reports of the battle began to flood every news outlet this side of the Core.

The initial reports had supposed the zombie-like creatures attacking the planet were the products of some sort of virus, perhaps part of a scheme by the Bryn'adul or a terrorist organization, but it quickly became apparent this couldn't be the case. Other accounts described space distortions nearby, but such anomalies had never caused the population of a planet to mutate into nightmarish ghouls.

It seemed they were dealing with something totally unknown, possibly even an alien threat from beyond their galaxy. But the most intriguing theory he'd heard so far was of a spiritual nature.

Though according to the public record, he was not Force sensitive, let alone a Jedi or Sith, Nimdok just so happened to be an expert on things of a spiritual nature and their history. This was a situation in which he could offer some assistance.

Once he had submitted to a medical exam and was able to pass through, Nimdok commenced searching for familiar faces among the crowds. Well, familiar faces to him. He would not be recognized in this form, a fact he was constantly reminded of by the tiny hand clinging to his. Ah, but he hoped he would be taken seriously, seeing as he could not be anyone or anything other than Nimdok for a while yet. He intended to claim he was a friend of Heliobas, sent on his behalf...

His gaze was drawn upward to a glint of metal. A droid stood on the ramp, looking down at the swarm of people in the common area of the docking terminal. Dak - he recognized it from Alderaan, where it had been nearly blasted by a paranoid Republic soldier. Heliobas had been one of the people who stepped in to stop that from happening.

As for the others with the droid, he didn't recognize any of them except in passing - a sharp reminder that Heliobas had few actual ties to the Alliance or the Order. Well, any one of them would do, as long as he could speak to someone who knew firsthand what was really going on here. Preferably someone who had at least heard of Jedi Master Casimir Heliobas, Nimdok's friend.

Picking up Miri, he maneuvered his way out of the throng and into the semi-open area where the warriors had gathered. He hung back a few feet from them, not wanting to intrude on a reunion of survivors. But he saw his chance slipping away as he watched one battle-scarred soldier, struggling to keep his composure, delivering what was obviously bad news to a dark-haired girl with kind eyes.

"I--we didn't see him make it out."

Maynard Treicolt Auteme Loske Treicolt Cassius Callaesar Gala Geert Leon Gallo

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Azure Sector // Anaxes Station // Anaxes
Maynard Treicolt // Auteme // Soon: Leon Gallo // Spectating: Jacen Nimdok
Keep careful watch of my brother's souls​

Loske had bitten so much of her bottom lip that she could probably swallow it in the next few seconds, but she still couldn't stop it from trembling. Auteme's question was the obvious one. Where's Ryv.

Thankfully Maynard answered on their behalf. Nothing more needed to be added or said, but she reached over to rest against the bicep locked in her arm for a second or two of reassurance. The ache in his voice was more informative than his answer, and it broke her heart again. The shared shock had by now worn off and his voice was as hollow as she felt. Empty. There was nothing left inside of her to give. No tears, no rallying pep talks; completely exhausted. Only a sigh. For the most part, she avoided looking directly at either of them and got lost in the crowds. They were burdened with loss and fear. She wasn't an empath, but everyone wore their expressions like clothing. The overwhelming want to help was going to tear bleeding heart Matson asunder.

What happened down there?

"Uh, yeah. We don't really know what happened - Frank got some readings he thinks matches frequencies from the Netherworld. The skies just..opened up with these creatures I've never seen before." That wasn't saying much. Loske hadn't been around all that long. "Ah - maybe..maybe you have in something you've read. I'm sure someone has some information they're compiling, or I can get Frank..he's.."

She looked over her shoulder to catch Dak glancing their way, before engaging in conversation with Leon Gallo - who she recognized from Vulpter. He'd raced on The Imperium's behalf and been victorious. She lifted her free arm in a wave of camaraderie in his direction -- which he could use as an invitation if he wanted, before they made their way to the infirmary and be swallowed by the station. Still - she couldn't detect Frank..unless-- she rose to her tippy toes to see him at the foot of the ramp, and it looked like Cassius Callaesar was looking down at him.

"--oh. Busy."

---

As self-aware as Frank was, he sometimes forgot he was just an astromech droid in the eyes of others. Loske and her friends engaged him with a dialogue that was more amicable than just giving instructions-back-and-forth from the cockpit to his controls. Then again, they all had little droids too.

So when the fine Admiral asked Frank for his credentials, he almost short circuited.

Admiral. If he had arms, he would have saluted. Instead, the rubbery nozzle below his triangle could only quiver.

I'm an astromech of Saber Squadron. Better cut to the chase! This human seemed agitated.

I have aggregated geothermal reports from other astromechs that were piloting in Brentaal IV that match netherworld readings I've collected previously. I suspect there's correlation between what we just saw and the Netherworld. Is there somewhere you'd like to see the data?

 

[Leon Gallo]

Leon hadn't gone far when Dak noticed him. The droid suggested henot isolate himself, and spend time with other Jedi. The droid's request was reasonable, even when there was no feeling behind it. It would do him well to not let himself be alone, and other Jedi would understand him better than the average person. Even though the request was coming from a place of only logic and reasoning, it felt genuine to the young Jedi. One of the Jedi waiving him over ensured that he was wanted there, so Leon turned to go.

"Thanks, Dak."

The thanks was for more than just this one bit of advice. Dak's words aboard the Ashaton kept Leon from doing something rash, and helped him calm down, at least in the moment. Leon walked over to the group of other Jedi, of whom he only recognized one. One looked injured, and one looked like she hadn't been involved. As Leon got closer to the trio, he could tell something heavy had just been dropped in the conversation. A lost friend, likely. A lot of those conversations were going to be made. There wasn't much Leon could do to change thr loss of a close friend, but he could at least help them get the injured man somewhere less crowded.

Leon wormed his way through the crowd a bit more bofre reaching them. In the distance he could see a unit of heavily armed guards escorting someone. He didn't care much about the higher ups, but he knew they were having a time of things, just as anyone else. He finished approaching the trio of Jedi be fore greeting the only one he recognized.


"Hey Loske."



Dak Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Auteme Cassius Callaesar

 

[Cassius Callaesar]

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station
Loske Treicolt Leon Gallo Maynard Treicolt
Kazuhira Auteme ​

​

His eyes can't help but twitch at the droid's suggestion. The Netherworld?

Were he not there to witness the terror of the Brentaal IV incident himself he would have burst out laughing at the suggestion before quickly submitting the astromech for maintenance. But with everything he had seen; the Goliath monstrosities and twisted horrors that spewed from the spatial anomaly at the heart of the system, perhaps it wasn't as farfetched as it seemed.

"Saber Squadron," he repeats quietly, recalling the name as a Jedi-led Starfighter Squadron. At that, he sighs "Very well, droid. Follow me. Such a topic will require something strong."

Stepping down the ramp under the careful supervision of the nearby marines, Cassius makes his way through the crowd to one of the terminal's pubs. Apparently the wave of traumatized citizens was good for business, as the crowd was abnormally large yet particularly silent. The High Admiral's eyes pass many blank stares as he makes his way to an opening at the bar.

"Yup, what can I-" the gaunt Anaxsi man stiffens as he pieces together the identity of the individual seated before him. While known only by a select few and mostly for his position within the Navy across most of the Alliance's worlds, in the Azure Sector the old veteran carried quite a reputation. "Oh! Uh, Mr. Ca-- Admiral Callaesar! A pleasure," he pauses awkwardly, realizing his choice of word was poor given the circumstances "Err, what can I get you, sir?"

"Phattro. 5 year," he looks up to the display behind the tender, pointing out the bottle with his gaze "on the rocks."

The bartender flips a glass out from beneath the counter before turning to fetch the Admiral's choice, "Of course, sir! On the house."

Cassius offers a feigned smile at the token of appreciation, but quickly brings his focus to the astrogation droid at his feet while drawing a small personal datapad from the inner pocket of his uniform jacket. "Right, well," he lowers the device to show the droid a large alphanumeric sequence displayed on the screen "connect to this network and transmit any relevant or sensitive information to this datapad rather than projecting. Show me these reports, and any other information you have."

 

[Gala Geert]

Azure Sector // Anaxes // Anaxes Station
Dak
​

​

"The admiral?" Gala perked up, wiping at some dried blood on the plating of her armour. That seemed direct. Certainly he'd redirect the pair to his advisory payroll person to give bonuses or whatever. "If you say so, Dak."

No sooner had she obliged to the suggestion, that she saw the silver-haired FOX emerge from the belly of the flag ship. Despite his protected position in a control room, he looked no better than the soldiers that were covered in the gore of Brentaal. For a brief moment, she watched the exchange between the admiral who seemed set on a trajectory, but paused to interface with an astromech.

Weird.

"Yeah." She agrees, tilting her head at his uniform as it cut through the crowds of civilians. "I could use a night cap."

 

[Constantine Oliva]

Constantine was only just commissioned captain of the ASV Hawk when he was ordered to Anaxsi orbit to aid in bringing refugees to the orbiting station. His crew was exhausted from running loads of refugees back and forth from larger vessels and the station. Once his ship was allowed to stop its transportation of refugees for sterilization, he departed from Hawk to rest on the station. The station was crowded by the refugees, and even this massive orbital station was nearly full of those fleeing from the disaster on Brentaal IV. Constantine still had no idea what had happened, only that something truly devastating had struck the planet. Seeing all of the scared and grieving civilians brought the young captain's spirit down too. Constantine set off to find somewhere to lift them.

He'd spent a fair amount of time searching for a bar, mostly moving through the great horde of refugees. Eventually he found an establishment to rest at. He slipped his way inside and managed to find a stall amidst the crowded bar. He ordered his drink and some food, then sat down. Most of the current patrons seemed to be refugees, silent and somber. They drank away the terrible memory of what had happened just before. A few were other military men, drinking to relax from their work. Some of those were drinking like the refugees. Likely they had fought to save the civilians. and saw those same horrors.

He sat, listening to the silence and low conversation. Not much was happening, just somber drinking. Suddenly, a man and an astromech entered. In the dim light of the bar, Constantine couldn't tell the exact rank of the newcomer, but he knew he was an Alliance Navy service man. The bartender stiffened and reacted as if he was startled by the man. Strange, considering the number he had to serve, even his calm reaction serving Constantine himself. Something was different about the new man. The captain leaned in to watch him closer.


Cassius Callaesar Gala Geert Dak

 

[Auteme]

A N A X E S
Tag: Loske Treicolt Maynard Treicolt Leon Gallo Jacen Nimdok ​

---

Ryv... didn't make it?

The blood drained from Auteme's face. It didn't seem possible. The threat of death seemed so far away most days. She was young, and healthy, and cautious. But this galaxy, and the life of a Jedi... she shook her head, trying to get the thoughts out of her mind. They hadn't seen him. They couldn't be sure. Maybe...

It wasn't her own emotions that hit the hardest, it was feeling the despair and grief and pain of the other two. Even without the Force, the pain etched across Loske's face and Maynard's drained voice were clear enough. They believed he was gone. "Maybe he... you didn't see..." Auteme's voice failed her. She'd eaten lunch with him just a week ago; it didn't seem possible that he was gone. There was a desperate, irrational hope inside her that came out in these sorts of situations, like when she'd closed her eyes as a kid and tried to imagine what her parents would say when they came to get her someday.

Of course, this was different. There were others affected by this disappearance; Auteme would be a bad friend if she didn't notice and support those in need. It might hurt her, too, but she shouldn't ignore the others. She cleared her throat and shut her mouth, focusing on bringing Maynard to the med bay. "Sorry. I... I think he'd be happy to know you two are safe."

Soon enough they'd reached their destination. Most of the cots were full already, so Auteme guided them over to a set of chairs by the wall, sitting Maynard down. Focus... she wanted to move past it, to help Maynard and Loske, but the idea that she'd never see Ryv again was a difficult pill to swallow. One step at a time, she thought. "Alright, Maynard, where does it hurt?" She placed her fingers on each side of his head to hold it straight, beginning to focus her energy in preparation to heal him.

 

[Jacen Nimdok]

Loske Treicolt Auteme Maynard Treicolt

The blonde woman confirmed the rumors Nimdok had been hearing. Frequencies from the Netherworld—now that was something you didn’t hear every day.

But that confirmation was as much as he was going to get from this group, if the obvious signs of grieving and despair were any indication. Someone they knew had gone missing and was presumed dead.

As the members of the group headed to sickbay, Nimdok sighed and looked around, trying to find another familiar face. But a small hand on his cheek stopped him.

“What are you looking for?” Miri asked, motivated by childish curiosity.

Nimdok had only had the girl for a few days, but he had already learned it was pointless to try and keep things from her. She had gone digging through his mind for answers even about trivial matters, and while this was not inconsequential, it wasn't strictly confidential either. “I’m looking for information,” he replied. “About the Netherworld.”

The child tilted her head to the side, as if she were listening for something. Suddenly she wiggled in his arms, clearly wanting to be put down. As soon as he complied, she grabbed his hand and began tugging him through the crowds.

To his astonishment, she guided him over to a crowded pub. Nimdok quickly closed the distance between them, attempting to hide her presence from the staff and other patrons with his body, while still following her lead.

At last they reached a man seated at the bar. Graying, mustached, and with an obvious military bearing going beyond his uniform, he was accompanied by an astromech droid. Nimdok’s pointed ears picked up on the bartender’s surprise, and the man’s name.

“Admiral Callaesar...?” Nimdok muttered under his breath. He didn’t know this man, but clearly his exploits were well-known here.

Miri was pointing up at the admiral, craning her neck to look back at Nimdok. “He wants to know about it too."

Though it was alarming that the child was precocious and gifted enough to be able to sense this stranger’s thoughts, let alone single him out of the crowd based only on the subject of his thinking, Nimdok was grateful. He gave her a small smile of approval and put his hand on her shoulder, before pulling her behind him and out of sight.

“Admiral Callaesar,” Nimdok repeated, this time loud enough to get the man’s attention. “I don’t mean to disturb you, sir, but I believe you are the one I should be speaking to.”

From there, the persona of the long-winded know-it-all professor took over.

“My name is Nimdok. I am a friend and associate of Master Casimir Heliobas, a member of your Alliance. Since he was unable to provide assistance on Brentaal, he asked me to come on his behalf to investigate the matter. I understand the situation is rather… unusual, in that it involves forces beyond what you are used to dealing with, but it just so happens that is precisely my specialty...”

While he attempted to smooth-talk the admiral, Miri was distracted by the flurry of activity around her. Her eyes wandered from person to person, and so did her untrained, uncontrolled Force senses. Unbeknownst to her father, she was treating the minds of the bar patrons like toyboxes to be climbed into and rifled through. Quite a few were going to be developing headaches that had nothing to do with the alcohol they were consuming.

Cassius Callaesar Constantine Oliva

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Frank understood self care. He liked a nice droid scrub now and then..but when humans needed a particular liquid to help them process things he could only draw parallels to oiling his own circuits. Which was an infrequent necessity. Nevertheless, the dome-headed droid followed Cassius Callaesar 's bidding through the crowds.

Frank inventoried the order, and his catalogues suggested this was a strong choice. It was typical for Frank to systematically trace his surroundings. Much like his mistress, taking stock of the surroundings helped evaluate your own relativity in the space. The bar was crowded of course, so there was a lot to consume. Frank collected necessary inventories of the immediate left and right of the Admiral, including Constantine Oliva . And the bartender. It was good to know bartenders.

Then someone else introduced themselves to the High Admiral, a Jacen Nimdok , and Frank gave an indignant toot. He'd been snooping! Overhearing his information somehow. If the droid could look suspicious, this would have been the time to evidence such an expression. And then there was a child at his leg -- about the same size as Frank. This was indeed troublesome.

If I may, Admiral, this may not be the most suitable place to be sharing information. Some may find it offensive.

---

Auteme 's reaction was completely warranted. It was hard to digest for everyone. Loske had the information hours longer than the other, and she was still processing it, and no matter how many times she turned it over in her head it sucked.

"Leon, hi!" She was surprised to see Leon Gallo -- but she shouldn't have been. He'd been loyally supporting Cedric since Vulpter, it was simply a circumstance of separate paths. He served as another reminder of everything that had happened down below. How many people The Imperator affected personally, and how many soldiers were returning with their lives and the burden of the losses they hadn't been able to save.

Not a Lorridian, or an empath, Loske adjusted to leave Maynard Treicolt in Auteme's care. Or, at least give them the space they needed to remedy his concussion. She'd have to make note to learn something about healing soon.

The other Padawan though, proved as a distraction. Another reason not to search through her own feelings and keep it only at a level of despair without getting into the weeds. "Are you okay? I'm glad to see you made it..out..." bad words. "Uh, Leon, this is Maynard and Auteme." She gestured "Both from The Jedi Order - they came to help out as well."