Republic broadcast

[Laira Darkhold]

Markus Rach, the current CEO of ArmaTech looked at the broadcast and the protest. He knew the Sith Lord in Draco Vereen's skin would like to know about this, but, he was also certain the Sith Lord was engaged on Roche. Best to take matters into his own hands.

"Maybe we should get with Tenloss and make a Minute Men gear set. Something cheap, mass produceable and affordable to the common man. It looks like there are a lot of people angry with the Republic, someone should make a dime off them. Oh, but for any official announcements go with 'Minute Men, Never be Lasedried by your government again' and maybe use her little selectivist sickle xed out in the background." The marketing director nodded to the blonde man from Tanaab and left.

 

[Seydon of Arda]

One stray bolt shot into the paving at a hard vector, managing enough luck to pass through the crowd, to connect into one badly tuned electro-Veetar and shatter the instrument to plastic slag, cooked note keys, and burning soundboards. The owner cried and flailed to his feet, beating out small, sympathetic flames that had caught onto his poncho and braided chin hair. Seydon listened to his mutter, grabbing a hefty plumbing pipe out of his duffel bag and stamp towards the forward picketing line. Pissed off. Hacked off. Fed up and wanting someone with authority to pay for it with a bit of pain. Seydon cocked his ear: forward, at the senate amphitheatre entry over those broad pavilion steps. Shoving, boots scuffing hard rubber soles, vehement cursing. Guards hollering warnings, assurances.

...The tell-tale slid of greased gunmetal out of a threaded, leather arm-pit holster.

A crack went off and he listened to a composite ceramic-kevlar anti-riot cuirass take the brunt of a close-quarters slug round. He could see a body getting wrenched out of the crowd and battered onto the steps, officers spitting out cursing, trying to wrestle the weapon free. Like a static charge roiling off a too-close thunderbolt, the crowd's mood switched from irate to raging. The Dunaan went along with the minstrels as a happenstance whim. Morbid anticipation, Seydon called the notion. And watching the makeshift sit-in become cordoned off by authoritarian overreaction was goading him to stay. Provide a witness, bust a head in out of sympathy.

Since Lasedri's prior tenures, criticisms of pan-world governance were answered with measures including surveillance, arrests on grounds of sedition and treason, 'black bag' operations in what amounted to Republic sponsored kidnappings, killings that rocked the universitariat crowds and scientific circles, even if they were attributed to the actions of some randomized, outlier political causes. Ultimately, however, Seydon quit his claims at being anyone's citizen. No army, cloned or otherwise, were his family. Not his circus. Not his nekkers.

Seydon kept pace behind Rave and ducked in through the minute spaces opening and shutting up in the surrounding cordon. He snagged a piece of pepperoni three-cheese pizza, making sure to tag the young, lovely delivery woman with a healthy cred-chit tip. Following Merrill into adjoining avenue fare, an abandoned audio-player caught his eye. A bulky, pre-810's stereo that necessitated a shoulder saddle. Big, blocky, and notorious for their blessedly ear-rending volume. Seydon paused, checked its battery reserves, and went fishing for something out of a cloak pocket: a small male-input portable hard drive. It plugged into a receptacle beside the read out hololith as he scrolled through for a tune. Next moment, he jogged up lightly beside Rave, as music blasted behind their heels.

[member="Rave Merrill"] [member="Allyson Locke"]

 

[Sasha Santhe]

Sasha Santhe wasn't a clone, she was however a genetically created construct created on Kamino and so could relate. More importantly though, Sasha Santhe knew a good chance to appeal to the public and help bolster her image. She arrived, in person to mingle with the clones protesting. In addition agents of her company began to hand out flyers. Any clone present may sign up and join Santhe Corporation. While Sasha herself preferred they join Security giving her an additional core of well trained soldiers she held no preference. "Competitive pay, generally speaking above above average. Full benefits," one of the men called as she chatted up a clone telling of the story of how her father had commissioned her and sold her off to the Sith as a hostage of the family. So sad.

"So what does full benefits mean?" a clone asked.

Immediately upon looking at him Sasha knew what he meant. He was missing an arm and had a generic government replacement. "Full iBorg replacement for that archaic junk," she said walking to the man and putting a hand on his back. "You deserve the best, and we at Santhe Corporation are that. We won't take the price out of your pay, we won't pay you minimum wages. We are a good company to work for."

"And what if I don't want to fight anymore."

Sasha held onto a mournful face and stared the man in the eye. "Santhe Corporation is a full service company. In addition to Santhe Security we also have shipyards and factories located throughout the Galaxy."

The man looked to the ground. "And if I have no other skills"

At this Sasha took a step up onto a table and addressed everyone in the crowd around her booth. "Free job training for all those in need. I promise to all of you, I'm here to make your lives better."

And then blasters went off into the crowd. It was really only a matter of time. The Republic were starting to become well known for their brutish ways. They were hardly different from the Sith nowadays. "Don't worry," Sasha called as her own guards started to form a perimeter around the gather crowd. With the press of a button a small bubble shield appeared and surrounded the little Santhe Corporation area. "Anyone seeking shelter may have it."

Popemobiles were a lovely thing, and Sasha appreciated being a VIP although she never expected to need to use the shield in this way. She suddenly clicked on a loudspeaker, "Any seeking shelter may do so here!" Perhaps she should have brought guns to this party instead.

 

[Minna Balin]

Senator Taff followed Senator Kay closely, eyes still covered by his cloth. All of this violence and hate made him sick to his stomach. When they went back inside to escape the chaos, Auru immediately honed in on singing. From Senator Sparrow, to be exact. This confused the Caamasi for only a moment, remembering the unorthodoxy of the Senator from Kashyyk. Perhaps unorthodoxy was what the Republic needed now more than ever.

"He seems rather... enraptured, don't you think?" The Caamasi's golden eyes blinked at the pirate-turned-senator. Singing wasn't ever his thing. Caamasi weren't known for their amazing vocal talents.

[member="Lady Kay"]
[member="Commander Lusk"]
[member="Jack Sparrow"]

 

[Nick Sept]

[member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Commander Lusk"] [member="Darth Metus"]



The young pizza girl would suddenly find herself facing a bald man with cybernetic eyes and a calm demeanor. ''Got stiffed? Here's seventy and a camera. That's three hours pay on Coruscant. Record everything, give me back that camera, and I will give you more pay and credit when we're done here," he said calmly.


He then proceeded to watch the violence unfold. This protest was meant to be peaceful. It was meant to help people. People who had done nothing wrong other than be born a slave to wicked, corrupt, overpaid jerks who looked at them like ammunition instead of fellow sapients. NO. This was not how the clones would meet their end. He walked up to parked car and stood up on it. He cleared his throat. Staring out over the mayhem.



Nicholas Sept was weak in the force. He had never been trained in it, and a solid diet of military stims and generally fething crazy lifestyle had led him to not even realize he had any talent in it. However, the force was often great at helping a person be better than they were. And in the case of this one particularly ill-tempered clone, it made him damn good at the one thing any military instructor, even one on Cartao, was good at. And that was yelling like an enlisted officer who was about to punch a few people out.



"SOLDIERS, STAND DOWN!" He barked in a familiar tone, the Force amplifying his voice like a megaphone. "This gods-damned clusterfeth of a firefight will cease immediately! Brothers, Sisters, there will be no more bloodshed! Killing each other in the streets so the Republic can avoid footing the bills! I. WON'T! HAVE IT!!!!" His words echoed down the street. The music seemed softer in comparison. "I will not stand idly as we all are led to the slaughter. I will not fight. I will not give you your war," he said, holding his hands up in mock surrender.


"If the Senate will not speak for us, then we will speak to them. On Cartao, brothers and sisters, peace found a way. Life found a way. Clone and Corporation and Command spoke and peace was found!" A few people, others from Cartao here on "leave" from their rehabilitation, nodded and affirmed it to the crowd. "That's right," came a voice from somewhere.


"On Cartao, we found a way. And on Chazwa, we too will find a way! I am announcing a new Crusade, brothers and sisters. I am announcing myself as a nominee for the position of Senator on Cartao. With your help, we can get a clone in the Senate. Without representation, our interests will be nothing more than half-promises and empty words. I promise actions. I'm not from your series. I'm an older clone, a tough one who has seen what good and evil a military can do to its soldiers and its citizens. I saw Atrisia burn. I saw Cartao saved. I plead with you all, it can be done. Peace finds a way, brothers, sisters, clones, friends, I beg you. Let Peace find a way. Let our lives matter, not to be thrown away in violence against this state, but to serve the Republic, to save the Republic, to heal this broken nation and find a new way. Brothers and Sisters," He bellowed, echoing out on the street, "Let Peace Live!"


He began chanting it. Standing on the vehicle. "Let peace Live! Let peace live!"


The funny thing about Jedi Mind tricks is that with the right speech, you rarely needed them.





#clonelivesmatter #letpeacelive #Sept4Senate

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Ceto | Salacia Consolidated HQ



The Second Quarter Review Meeting had slowly gotten back on track after the interruption of the triple C credit rating handed down to the Galactic Republic. Work had gotten back on potential ocean products and their ability to generate a large revenue stream within much of the Silver Sanctum territory. It was decided to set up a meeting next week with ideas and to get Research & Development on some new products.


Back in his office, CNN played on the holo mounted on wall....


"....Recent updates from the #CloneLivesMatter demonstrations. It seems [member="Sasha Santhe"] and Santhe Corporation have arrived on scene and are causing a bit of uproar. Santhe Corporation is doing the unthinkable, offering jobs to any clones in the Galactic Republic....."


Judah looked up from his datapad, watching the scene play out. Talk about an amazing PR stunt.


"Son of a b-.."


Before he could finish, a firefight had broken out, a minor one. Tensions were certainly running high....of course Santhe was there to save the day once again. Risky but extremely public. Even Ceto News Network was covering the event, far removed from the Galactic Republic.