Diplomacy Revelry in Ravelin | NIO Capital Crowning of Bastion

[Okkeus Dainlei]

Bastion
Ravelin
Landing Pad 1134

They had done it. The war was over.

No more fighting, no more submitting, and no more death. For now, the Sith had been defeated.

With both hands rested on the back of his head, the Jedi Knight leaned back onto the viewport of his ship, Thunderstruck The glass began to cool him down, the chilled surface still maintaining its temp after exiting space not long ago. His feet payed out in front of himself, stretching down towards the nose of the ship. From up here on the landing pad, it gave him a perfect view of the celebration.

Some might have asked why he wasn't personally down there himself, celebrating and partying with his friends. The answer was simple: This was not his day. No, today was a day for all those men and women who fought against the Sith, and paid for it with their lives. People like those were the ones that should be recognized, not a Jedi who no longer fought alongside the Imperial Knights.

This is why he stayed up here, watching the celebration from afar. Plus, he was never much to party and drink himself. No need to be a downer on everyone else.

Each injury that he received that needed bacta, each cut that he got now turned into a scar, each nightmare he had from the war with the Sith, they would all be for a reason. For a purpose.

On Dantooine, his first time fighting alongside the New Imperial Order. The TIE fighter pilots that flew with him, taking out ships from the Sith fleet. Men in his squadron that ended up dying to see a galaxy free of the Sith's grasp. When the fleet kept on getting bigger and bigger, they flew those ships till their last breath.

At Ziost, where he fought on the surface against the Sith acolytes to free prisoners. Many people died trying to save the planet, only for the filth of the Sith to keep reigning.

Finally, at the second battle of Ziost, where he fought off invading Sith forces when they threatened the senators. Alongside Jedi and Imperial Knights, they were able to save them, and fend off the Sith. While the assault on the planet was a failure, the Triumptive was still able to defeat many of the enemy forces.

Becuase today, the corrupt power that was the Sith has been destroyed.

The Sith shall be sent to hide away, while the Iron Sun burns brightly on this day.

 

[Enedina Tal]

Roselina Tal | open to interaction| location: Ravelin



​

Another celebration. They all seemed to come at once like a deluge in the days and weeks following the near-total collapse of the western Sith empires forces, and as much as she loathed parties and pretending to possess social skills, secretly, she was glad that it was mostly all over. Three years of total war and endless days spent on the campaign took it out of her, and she had lost too many comrades, friends and fellow Galidraani's to get to this point. Flanked by her sister as the pair made their way into the main celebration hall, a tight grip of anxiety coiled in her stomach as she looked around the room and back at her sister. At least she had the privilege of not losing someone of her own blood; many in the common Galidraani soldiery and even the nobility had embraced such brutal losses over the past years. Parents, siblings and children of many an esteemed noble house perished on half a dozen battlefields so far away from home, even her fathers larger than life colleague General Barran had suffered losses of his own at Ziost. She sometimes questioned if the human cost of Galidraans struggle would be realised in this lifetime, or be merely shuttled away and glorified for another party propaganda poster celebrating 'patriotic martyrs'.


The two sisters could not be more starkly different in attire and attitudes, Enedina opted to dress in the formal attire of the Galidraani officer core, and her sister opted for a look perhaps more fitting to a social setting. Looking like a peacock with too many medals and gold seemed to be the national pastime of the male nobility in the Galidraani army, and never had she felt out of place than she did among this obscenely decorated gang of her father's generals. Enedina wondered how Erskine Barran could walkabout with the dozens of medals stamped on his coat, and the elderly Galidraani general had so many awards and accolades that she was surprised the Barran Patriarch still found space on his jacket for more.

"Shall we make ourselves acquainted then sis?" she asked pensively to Roselina, Enedina had been in many firefights and conflicts but the social battleground still terrified her the most.

 

[Dagon Kaze]

NJO GANG GANG |

'S CANTINA​

"Have any of you heard of Dagon Kaze, the man buying your drinks?"​

"Auteme, are you fethin' drunk??" he hissed through gritted teeth, shocked to the core by whatever the hell the Chancellor's protege was thinking. If she was thinking at all.

As if to make things worse, all celebrations in the cantina vanishes. You could hear a cotton bud hit the floor. So silent that Dagon checked his pulse to be sure he hadn't died in a vacuum.

All eyes fixated on Auteme, with one sole question on their face.

​

Dagon was rubbing his brow in embarrassment, thinking of the quickest escape from this fiasco Auteme had pulled.

Then some brave soul, a hero among heroes, a legend, a myth, broke through the silence.

"Yeah, I know who Dagon Kaze is."

All eyes shifted to the man. Anticipation in the air was so thick, one could cut it with a saw. It was as if the man possessed the answer to the greatest question ever asked in the galaxy. Even the grumpy bartender was all ears, his hopes and prayers that he would be serving a multi-trillionaire might finally be answered.

And the answer was..

Spoiler

"THE MAN BUYING US DRINKS!!"

​

There was no place on Bastion more jubilant in its celebration than Tambor's Cantina (named after Tambor's fat uncle, not Gat just fyi). All celebrations on the world paled in comparison. Victory over the greatest evil to plague the galaxy? Nah, fam, FREE BOOZE, innit.

The raven-haired Jedi just facepalmed, then turned to Auteme, "Get down from there now. The hell did they give you in the Fortress?" as scolding as his tone sounded, a grin was forming on his face. A grin basking in the joy of the common man and woman liberated from the wicked claws of the Sith.

Auteme | Allyson Locke | Vaylin | Kolson Vrask | Sephi Karneh

 

[Ryv]

"I ran into him a few times on Peace. Before Kintan," Ryv said. "He seemed tired like he'd been holding onto something real heavy for a long time."

Ryv turned from the statue to face Maynard. They'd gone into all this together. He and Loske had been by his side from the very beginning, well before Ryv became the Sword of the Jedi. Before anyone knew his name. That loyalty led them into the depths of hell. For all they'd gained, they'd lost so much. Maynard bore as many scars as Ryv did. Maybe more.

"I'd be lying if I said I expected to make it out the other side like we have," Ryv wrapped his arm around Maynard and pulled him close. This embrace was common between them. After everything they'd been through, they were more than friends. They were brothers. "I can remember half a dozen times off the top of my head I thought I wouldn't make it home," he stepped back and looked from Maynard back to the statue. Ryv could see Carnifex in Vaulkhar's face. He could see the dark side's vile influence in the man as easily as he could feel it on the galaxy. The war was over, but the fight was not yet won.

"The General always said it all started on Bastion. I never understood what he meant. I thought Kintan or Mandalore really kicked things off, but seeing this statue, hearing all the stories... I think I finally get it."

He leaned down, lifted his pack, and slung it over his shoulder once more. "Dagon mentioned some folks were getting together down at one of the local dives. Did you wanna link up with them for a few drinks?"

Maynard Treicolt | Dagon Kaze ​

 

[Kadan Scipora]

.​

REVELRY IN RAVELIN​

​

He wasn't a fan of the Imperials truth be told. They had purged Sith from their ranks, true, but the manner in which they conducted themselves was little better than the zealotry he had seen within the Sith. Standing in simple diplomat robes, he clasped his hands together, seeming very obviously out of place amongst the high rollers within this little gathering. Sometimes it felt like a punishment to be the apprentice for the grand master, so many meetings, so many expectations. He didn't know what to do with himself at times.​

​

One thing was certain, he was in for a bit of culture shock, as he looked like a lost pup in the middle of a stampede. His eyes sought his master, though he was seeing everyone but Kiara Ayres at this moment. He frowned, moving past several attendees, and taking a position at the bar. He wasn't one for crowds, least not without Aayla. She was there to ooggle at the stupid attire some of the more up and coming people here wore and keep him distracted from how out of his league he was here. The bartender gave him a side eye, seemingly knowing he didn't belong here, though Kadan said nothing at the look. "Can I get a glass of Tihaar, in a clean glass?" He probably didn't need to specify that, but Kadan had been to so many dive bars it was like second nature at this point.​

​

He turned his head, spotting a Twi'lek who seemed to be looking for someone as well. Might as well make pleasant conversation and wait for Kiara to show herself. "Hey there, you part of the envoy?" He inquired, feeling the served drink from the bartender hit his fingers, snapping his attention away for a moment as he collected the glass of Tihaar. He looked to the drink, sipped it, and cringed. Yea, that was Tihaar alright. "Kadan Scipora." He half coughed, extending a hand to shake the hand of the Twi'lek woman, having no idea who she was here with, and frankly not caring. He just wanted someone to complain about the night with.​

​

Eira Dwynwen​

 

[Willan Tal]

LORD PROTECTOR
GALIDRAANI FREE STATE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
RAVELIN
Tags:// Mithrad Irveric Tavlar Orika Kiara Ayres

Finding oneself in company with a Chiss after the ever so brutal affair that had took place on Csilla left oneself feeling quite awkward. Not ignoring the fact of the matter, Tal had sent thousands of his men to save the blue skins lives, many of whom never returned from the fighting and subsequent destruction of that wintery backwater. It didn't matter much to Willan. He had shown his willingness to support the Imperators plans for that region. As much as one cared little for the Chiss wretches, a few hundred Galidraani dead was a small price to pay for bettering his image and standing in the Imperial assembly. Though he could begrudgingly acknowledge Chiss's knack for waging warfare, his people at least shared that with them in common. Though his own planet was primarily spared of destruction in the third Imperial civil war and subsequent Galidraani war of independence, the only violence that had occurred was waged mainly by infiltrators and insurgents loyal to Tals regime against the increasingly worn out and outnumbered Sith loyalists. Those traitors and scum would have their day too when Tal's forces arrived back home on Galidraan. He had special plans in mind for them and their families, especially the clique that had so willingly bent over and maintained the status quo of Sith control even as fellow Imperial planets around them jumped ship.


Even so, the Chiss who had fled aboard his troop transports or had been so lucky as to not be on their homeworld when it was destroyed found shelter and purpose in Imperial space. With the arrival of a peculiar little fellow by the name of Mithrad finding himself in Imperial bureaucracy and commanding the Imperators ear had Willan intrigued, leading the de facto Galidraani head of state to strike up a correspondent with the Chiss bureaucrat in the weeks preceding celebrations of Imperial victory. The two were similar in some respect, but whereas Tal led his people by the sword, Mithrad led with words and the flick of a pen. Both equally deadly in measure.


Dressed in a alpine white Galidraani generals uniform and adorned with campaign medals, the now greying Tal cut a figure of authority as he arrived at the celebrations with the rather bookish looking Mithrad in tow. A Chiss and Galidraani made for strange bedfellows and company, but in a galaxy beset by strange circumstances and even weirder groups calling themselves states. It didn't seem so weird in retrospect.

"Lead the way to the Imperator chap, i'm sure the bar will be open when we're done discussing affairs old boy." ​

​

 

[FN-999]

​

N I N E S
Interacting With: DECEASED Erskine Barran | Tyrell Lockhart

THREE HOURS EARLIER
THE FREE DISTRICT, RAVELIN CITY, BASTION

The old marketplace was awash with newfound enthusiasm.
​

The entire 454th Regiment marched through the district on parade, forming part of the front rows of a procession consisting of the entire 908th Legion. The last time troopers of the 454th had entered the district, there was widespread rioting and several troopers even lost their lives in the chaos. By comparison, the current crowd was nothing but welcoming, countless small gray flags waving in hands and hundreds of emblems painted on apartments. It was an unsettling shift for many of the 454th, their helmets and armor barely concealing their twitching.

Peeking out the upper compartment of an AFV, his torso sticking out into the air, FN-999 waved his hand in a mock salute. The lieutenant legion commander's gaze methodically roved through the crowd, his helmet betraying no emotion. In fact, it was boredom that racked his brain.

For the past two decades, FN-999 had successfully adopted the mindset of a career soldier, one that had proven greatly beneficial in his pursuit of his ideals. However, his soldier's instincts were naturally repulsed by unproductive revelry. His body ached for the battlefield, the books, or the bed, not idle cheer-rousing.

Unfortunately, he still had another two hours to endure.

PRESENT
MILITARY HISTORY WING, GREAT IMPERIAL LIBRARY, RAVELIN CITY, BASTION

Of the "three Bs", FN-999 decided to look through some books.
​

As soon as the parade had settled, the lieutenant legion commander had given his entire regiment a leave for the day, and they had rapidly dispersed to the various bars, barracks, and even red-light districts throughout Ravelin. It was understandable, even tempting, to want to drown the pains of war with distraction of various forms. FN-999's distraction was the Imperial Library, its military history wing having aided him greatly in the early days of his command of the 454th. Now he entered the vast facility once more, seeking a new combat log or great historical battle to eagerly research.

Suddenly, a familiar figure caught FN-999's eye.

Just ahead of him was Erskine Barran, a formidable army commander who FN-999 had met just months earlier. While he seemed to carry with him the presence of a diplomat of esteemed background, the man appeared to be surprisingly humble and capable of easily nurturing genuine sympathy with his troops, traits that had quickly earned him the respect of the lieutenant legion commander. Previously, the two had bonded over their shared battlefield experience, both of them most recently on the front lines in the doomed defense of Csilla.

FN-999 approached Erskine, briefly smoothing his gray dress uniform and his six-square rank medal before speaking up.

"General Barran, it's nice seeing you here." stated FN-999.

​

 

[Orika]

"A B S I N T H E"
Brirne'Orika'Lrizan
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
RAVELIN | BASTION
Kiara Ayres | Irveric Tavlar | Willan Tal​

A lithe, lean woman leaned against a bannister, chatting casually with the Imperator, occasionally giving a light laugh in idle interest and lifting a red wine glass to her similarly painted pouty lips. White satin fabric clung to her hourglass form, highlighting every streamlined curve of her figure. It suited her, perhaps too well, the snowy fabric providing a stark contrast against her pale blue skin. Even for a Chiss, a species who had a tendency to look relatively similar, she stood out. Her deep navy hair was set loose in tamed waves with a few pieces brushed back from her face, allowing her high cheekbones and softly painted features to be put on full display. Pale lace rested against her neck, creating a statement piece in place of a more traditional necklace.

She had put a significant amount of effort into her appearance tonight, and it showed.

At first glance, the arrogance the woman indulged in was painfully obvious, as well as her surprising level of comfort in Irveric's presence, despite his rank. However, when another approached, she straightened up. Orika took a formal demeanor, appraising the form of the Grandmaster silently, a million calculations running through her mind. She had always been one to calculate a person's disposition quickly and with trained efficiency. The Agent had to be a quick judge of character in her line of work, and it had served her well more times than she could count.

"Jedi. Interesting company, though their philosophies tend to be...a bit stifling to someone like me." She whispered to Irveric as the woman approached. "Pretty though, she wears the robes well."

She politely lowered her head in acknowledgement as the two spoke, though her chin was always held just a bit higher than a casual encounter would require. Trained Chiss supremacy was not something that would fade so easily. Orika positioned herself just slightly behind the Imperator, ensuring any attention would be full directed to him. She was here to keep him company and keep his mood light, as well as serve to some degree as a pretty ornament. Such a thing did not trouble her, not if it was for him. The elusive vixen had taken a liking to the man, and the company of her friend and superior comforted her in otherwise alien territory.

As the two spoke, she occasionally lifted her glass to her lips, her crimson eyes scanning the room. Many of note, and many of service mingled and conversed in the fortress. It was an odd contrast to the grimy cantina's she was used to. Admittedly it had been more than a few years since she had presented herself in high-society. Though the aura of triumph clung to the air, there was also a slight sense of unease.

Yes, the long war was finally over, but the casualties and the costs could not be ignored. A long, low sigh escaped from her lips, her attention diverted to the many tales of tragedy and victory that had been shared with her. War was never a pretty thing, but now, at least no more lives would be lost.

Every life, every fight, every traumatic experience these people had suffered would not be lost on her, and she would not deny the weight and gratitude owed to those who served. She set her wine glass then on the bannister, looking once more in admiration to the Imperator.

Now more than ever, she did not regret her choice in joining in loyalty and solitude to his cause and the purpose of his imperial order.

A brief respite to the typical bitterness and resolve she held for her own insignificant goals. At his last words, she was almost grateful, looking forward to the progression of the conversation.

 

[Maynard Treicolt]

P R O T E C T O R
PROTECTOR OF CONCORD DAWN
Ryv | Loske Treicolt (Maybe)

​

He eased into the brotherly embrace, offering a beaming smile in the direction of Ryv. Whatever state he was in- he was glad his best friend was here to make it through to the other side. He wanted to prod and investigate the state of his being, his state of mind. But now...now wasn't really the time to delve too deeply into that.

"Yeah...we cut it close a few times- both of us. " He mentioned in regards to the war. He could recall more than a handful of times they both stared into the frigid gaze of death on their lonesome.

"I'm just glad you've made it. I don't know how many people have given you credit for what you were able to do for us- for the Galaxy. But man, I just want you to be happy and healthy. You deserve some time to rest, get your mind set, grow some roots somewhere. I- I gotta run but." He reached into his coat, producing metal badge depicting the blood grain of the Journeyman Protectors. He took Ryv's sole hand, taking note of the lack of cybernetic before placing it in his open hand.

"If you need a place to run away from everything- Concord Dawn is home to you as much as it is home to us- always brother." Maynard offered before pulling Ryv into another close embrace.

"We'll talk again soon- 'till then...take care of yourself, Ryv." Maynard said before eventually making his way off, no doubt to look for Loske.

 

[Kolson Vrask]

G R U N G E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
RAVELIN | BASTION
TAMBOR'S CANTINA
Sephi Karneh

​

He couldn't help but laugh. To her remarks, to the joyful surreal nature of the situation. The weight of the world didn't feel so heavy when he looked into those emerald eyes, even as glassy and wrought with tipsey ecstasy as they were. He smiled again- in the remark about his characteristic lack of the act.

"Yeah well- you know I'm not very good with women. Never have been. I remember a couple buddies of mine in Commando training always talked about how we'd be 'up to our eyeballs' in ladies when we got out. I mean...maybe but- I don't know. Tend to keep to myself, takes a lot for me to get comfortable with anyone like that." Kolson remarked with a faint shrug before drinking down the rest of his glass, pursing his lips to take in the trace of the liquor left on them as he looked over her with his own glassy eyes.

"Guess you're one of the few and proud, Karneh." He offered before the declaration of the barkeep to Dagon's sudden support of this establishment drove that grin even wider.

"Oh well would ya look at that. Here I was thinking I'd have to be careful enough to save for the trip home, you wanna stick around for another round, Greenie? Seemed" He asked, arching a brow. He knew the answer already or rather- he knew his answer already and beckoned for a serving droid for another round of the liquor they shared.

Another caught his glance, evidently a Clone ARC Trooper Sergeant Omen . A relic from a far, far by gone age static in time at the eve of a war far dissimilar from the one he was engineered to fight. Among the other Imperial soldiers and Jedi- he wasn't too out of place he supposed.

But it wasn't much longer until his attention rested squarely on her.

 

[Ryv]

"Ah," Ryv waved a hand. "It was nothing, man."

An odd gesture. Dismissive, even. The kiffar couldn't help but downplay the notion of success placed before him. There was so much more at play than him. He was a piece of a much bigger picture, something grander than a worn-down Jedi.

He took the standard from Maynard with a somber smile. His gratitude, always given, no matter the circumstance. Never any ill intent. Always at the cusp of some grand moment in time. Ryv looked down at the badge. He eyed the smooth metal rim, felt its cool touch in the palm of his hand. It spread up his fingers as they tightened around Maynard's gift and slid it into one of the inner pockets of his poncho.

"Thanks, man. I'll make sure to take you up on that sometime," Ryv waved, his gaze locked on his friend's back as he disappeared to find Loske, no doubt. "Maybe we'll grab that drink another time, then," he muttered long after Maynard disappeared.

Ryv nodded his final farewell to the statue and turned away from the monument.

​

With nothing better to do, the Sword wandered off in the one direction he knew he'd find good company.

Fortress Imperator.

Of the duo behind the New Empire, Ryv knew Irveric Tavlar far more than he knew the fallen Jedi Master. Yet, it was a thought that boggled his mind to this day. Meeting him deep within a Sith prison, spared from torture and death at the hands of a mad Sith Lord. It should've been Vy- er, Vaulkhar he'd grown to know. Both Jedi in service to the Force. Both residents of Peace, called to the station by one Wyatt Morga.

His hand fell to the pommel of Wyatt Morga's lightsaber, left at the comatose Ryv's bedside months before the end of the war. There was a comfort to be found in the blade's memories. Wyatt's training mirrored Cedric's in a way but differed in the application. For better or worse, the two Jedi Masters molded Ryv. They imparted decades of wisdom onto him in the simplest of ways—the patience to carry on long, arduous tasks for days on end. To always lend a hand, be the first to charge into the burning building to save a life. To both resist and persist.

Had he deployed those teachings in a way that would've made them proud? Does Cedric look onto his apprentice's place in the galaxy with the same respect he once held? Ryv chose the Alliance over his missing master. He chose to build something where there was nothing. Was it the right choice?

Before he knew it, the Sword found himself delving deep into the halls of Fortress Imperator. The faces changed from common citizens celebrating amongst their kin to high-ranking military officers. Men and women he'd met through the war. More than a few offered Ryv a nod or look, something given in respect to a man who'd given his all for them. He couldn't hold their gazes. Not long enough to make the connection. Not long enough to grow closer.

It became obvious when he'd found the Sovereign-Imperator. Tavlar's men were the best at what they did. His security detail was made up of some of the finest the New Empire had to offer.

Ryv elbowed his way closer to the old war dog and nodded his head.

"Evenin', General."

Irveric Tavlar | Kiara Ayres | Orika | Willan Tal ​

 

[Sephi Karneh]

A F T E R
starring N O V A
at TAMBOR'S CANTINA
featuring Kolson Vrask

The mirialan's grin stretched wider with his comment and she nodded, rather giddy about the fact. Proud indeed. "Y'know-"

The sudden crescendo of shouting in the bar snagged her attention, and if it weren't for the perpetual whining in her ears, she probably would've grimaced in surprise. Rather, the woman hefted up her half-full glass and cheered along with the others, interrupting herself with a grateful shout to whomever this Dagon Kaze fella was. It didn't matter really, he was the one buying drinks, that's all she needed to know.

Looking back to Kolson her smile turned almost outright sinister- she knew exactly how much hurt on a wallet she and Grunge could do in the pursuit of liquor. Dagon Kaze was going to regret this. Her answer came with the shove of her glass to the edge of the table as the serving droid approached and, she offered a grateful nod. "What was I saying?" She asked as if the man across from her knew the answer and her nails tapped against the surface of the table briefly before being brought to a sudden, decisive thud. "Right! Y'know, I'll take that win. But, I can't help but wonder if The Imperator hands out medals for that sort of thing. Do you think I'll have to apply for it, or maybe you recommend me for it or...?" Her painted lips quivered as she struggled to contain her playful laughter, though it didn't last long, and it bubbled through regardless.

"Where're you goin' after this?" Her attention shot right back to Kolson as she leaned forward, fishing by her hip to dig out her pack of cigarettes and place it between them in offer; seems he had won that battle, too.​

 

[Julian Qar]

✚ T H E _ A N C H O R ✚
- alleyway-
[ x x x x ]
Noel Strasza ​

This was the first time he’d ever step foot here...that he could remember. What surfaced was a memory that forced its way into his mind, the feeling he had that night pulled at him so vividly, it was like he was living it all over again, yet it had been years passed.

As the wind traced the edges of his organic features, he could feel the imbalance of energy. It was strange, to be in a place with so much history written in blood and to have a piece of his own here that he’d only ever felt...but here he stood, wearing a mask etched in duality.

Yes, the war was over but the real work had only just begun. No one ever thinks about the delicate work of healing wounds that lay tucked beneath the surface of those who made all of this possible. No one.

--

He told me his name but all I could hear was my heart slamming in my ears. Ya know..at one point he gave me his hand, and I think I mighta given him mine...that’s when he slipped those tags in my palm and took the air from my lungs with his words…

"Private Qar, I have been asked to inform you that your fiance, Noel Strasza was killed in action at 15:35 yesterday afternoon on Bastion. On the behalf of the Carlaci Corps, I extend to you and your family my deepest sympathy in your great loss…”

--

This was Bastion...the Bastion he knew that no one else did...and as his heavy step trailed the edges of the street, he couldn’t forget that moment. Julian wouldn’t waste another second, not an ounce of energy replaying that reel any further. A second chance brought him here, brought him to her and all the second chances in the universe made all of this possible. They wouldn’t be wasted.

The doctor pulled the cloak against his chest, threading through the checkpoint when he stopped to take moment to regain his bearings and pull up where they’d be meeting. Then suddenly he saw her name flicker on his HUD and he knew something wasn’t right.

"I- Jules- where-"

He could hear the anxiety gripping her voice, forcing him to act quickly. The doctor pulled back into their encrypted line immediately while his legs propelled him to sprint towards her location.

<"I know, I gotcha, stay right where ya are darlin'.">

He was thankful then, to have only been a few paces behind her, finally slowing to halt when he found her hidden away from the busy street in the alley. “I’m here…” He announced softly just as he’d done a dozen times before. The doctor stood in front of her, taking her hands in his similar metal onyx fingers, and applied a bit of reinforcing pressure.

“Deep breaths darlin’... “ He lowered his voice, hoping to help her ground those shivering limbs and her body from ascending. He could see all those memories rushing through her just by the subtle shifts in her eyes and the painful drag of her breathing. "Deep breaths...” He would repeat, keeping his words short so he wouldn’t bog her down when he lifted his hand to cradle her face, dipping his forehead to hers.

“I've got you, Noel...”

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

2
THE_WOAD

Tyrell Lockhart FN-999

Military-History Wing
The Great Imperial Library, Ravelin City
Bastion, 867 ABY​

'My goodness! The Ziost collection's just needlessly extensive, man!', Lord Erskine comfortably exclaimed to himself, seeing that he was the only living entity strolling the Great Imperial Library's Military-History wing, and caring little for any librarian who'd dare ruin his serenity. The recent-history section in particular was proving quite the surprise for Barran, thinking the library would be too busy with the multitude of books they had to add new ones to their near-endless reserve of timeless Imperial classics. New additions had since been added, including one huge book among them, titled,"Three Devastations - The Harsh Beginnings of a Church Planet", with an author's name printed too small for the Brigadier-General to see from where he was standing. Realizing it would be easier to drudge up old memories in the Military-History wing, Barran sighed dejectedly, muttering,'Might as well get used ti this now before it catches me off-guard down the line.', to himself as he turned around to see if there would be anything less-harrowing in the A-D section.

New additions littered the lower-rungs of every lettered-section shelves, (though C was blocked off by the wheeled ladders Lord Erskine would be using before long) with books on the subject of Dantooine being the most-numerous from what the Stormchaser could tell. Then, whilst averting his eyes from the Bastion collection, the Woad noticed that some idiots he'd never met in his life had also written numerous books on his time with the NIO, tales he knew would either be embellished too amorously, or picked apart too callously, with both extremes no doubt containing none of the real truths on the matter of the man himself or the deeds Erskine was known for. It was enough for the Lord-Commander to take the rolling-ladder along to the E-H section, stopping at G only to find a book on Generis, titled,"A Forested Hell - Eyewitness Accounts of a Blue-Heart on Generis.", adding it to his reading list as the Stormchaser climbed up the ladder to find anything on old Galidraan's Imperial heyday, such of the likes that he never had access to at Sandhurst.

'"The only place that doesn't make me feel like I'm surrounded by death is the distant past.", Heh! You an' me both, Thrast.... You an' me both.'

Happily keeping back the first two issues of,"Early Imperial Galidraan - Eras of Forgotten Glory.", to rent out for the Free-State's homeward voyage, the Stormchaser decided it was time he braved the deployment that killed his only surviving friend from the years before exile. In the first battle of Generis, (set to be much easier for the New Order in their second outing) Captain Bruenn,"Shugg", McHugh had died like a man in the line of duty, facing off against a surprise attack from the Amalgam's contingent in their attempt to relieve the embattled Blue-Hearts push southwards against the Shadow Dome. Dying with a wicked grimace on his face that Lord Erskine only got the chance to see for himself after the fact, Barran had known the estimation of McHugh's last words to be true, adding pride to bitterness when the Stormchaser finally covered his body in respect for the deceased and Shugg alike.

GENERIS AIN'T CHIT! - Jax Sloane, 864 ABY​

Remembering this was drudging up other memories along with it, like the bravery of Jax Sloane in the face of hopeless odds, manning ACV One's LMG-turret as old Coyle tried his best to set his leg in a splint below; along with the Woad's infamous race against the Myrmidons to the Amalgam's Shadow Dome, and the woman who'd hidden under her crashed speeder, only to be gunned down as she pleaded for her life. The screams as she realized Erskine was readying his pistol to kill her, the speeder's driver's last moments had somehow been repressed in all that bloodshed before and since, something Barran had completely forgotten until the subject of Generis had once more been brought to the fore; committing war-crimes on war-criminals, eye for an eye - manifest, but it was still eating at the Stormchaser in ways he never thought were even possible.
I don't understand how that one gets to me now, she was an enemy combatant after all! What the-

'General Barran, it's nice seeing you here.'

A blessed interruption from quickly darkening thoughts, and one with a voice he actually recognised, so Erskine would embrace the jolt back to reality and turn to see if his ears were telling it true or not; and as he thought, Lord Barran could see that FN-999 had graced the military-history wing of Ravelin's Great Imperial Library with his presence. Overjoyed that a war-buddy had strayed from the crowd as he had, the Brigadier-General was gladdened even further that it was the NIO's tactical wunderkind who was of the same mind that day. 'Nines! I should've known you'd prefer bein' here, lad.', Lord Erskine replied, pausing in his warm verbal welcomes to make it appear more like his young friend was welcome also. Standing to extend his right hand in fellowship to the approaching Lieutenant-Legion Commander, the grey-clad legend would meet the offer in the middle, also accepting Erskine's free-hand gestured offer to grab himself a spot at the table as the Woad continued,'An' by the way - likewise, lad. No many ah'd be happy to see when ah'm tryin' to avoid the crowds, but you're obviously an exception to this rule. Remember 864, Nines.... We're here now because o' your part in that. Don't - forget, aw'right?'

​

 

[Eira Dwynwen]

Tags: Open to interaction | Kadan Scipora
Attire: Dress
Objective: Figure out what NIO is up to next.

As she investigated the cantina, there were a good number of people of interest and she was interested in where her conversations should began. There were of course plenty of faces to avoid, most notable was the renown Jedi spy Allyson Locke who was thankfully talking with someone else so she didn't have to worry about drawing attention to the spy. Eira doubted that her skills would be anywhere near that of the notorious spy, from the information that Eira had on the spy, seemed that she was skilled at extracting information and seducing Sith with her charms. If they weren't on opposite sides then Eira might have been curious to learn from Allyson, or at least ask if the charming was something due to her Corellian background and if Eira's father could have been Corellian due to her skills with charming others.

Scanning around, Eira spotted a couple of NIO members sitting and having a discussion, they seemed to be the ones that were most interesting to talk with since she had some idea that she could gain some insight about the NIO plans from them. However, they were deep in conversation and Eira wasn't going to rudely barge herself into the conversation, no, she needed to be more subtle than that. There also seemed to be some Jedi celebrating with free rounds, Eira ordered her second drink. Taking note of the name, Dagon Kaze since that could be a name that she could need to recall at another point. Her short nails tapped idly against her empty glass as she waited for the second one to be poured for her.

Lost in her own thoughts, Eira didn't notice the guy approaching her, offering a quick smile, "Hi!" As he coughed, she offered a big giggle, "smooth." Gesturing an eyebrow over to her drink, she drank her own beverage gently and thought about how she wanted to approach the question of who she was and what she was doing here. "Hmmm, so tasty... Oh! Sorry, I am just a citizen. Just here to enjoy the parade, the drinks and a girl can't complain about the eye-candy." Offering a wink and giggle at her joke, "what about you?" Curious, part of her knew that he didn't fit the look of the usual Force Users of the NIO or one of the soldiers.

 

[Roselina Tal]

Tags: Enedina Tal | Open
Location: Ravelin

Spoiler: The Story

Roselina Tal | open to interaction| location: Ravelin





Another celebration. They all seemed to come at once like a deluge in the days and weeks following the near-total collapse of the western Sith empires forces, and as much as she loathed parties and pretending to possess social skills, secretly, she was glad that it was mostly all over. Three years of total war and endless days spent on the campaign took it out of her, and she had lost too many comrades, friends and fellow Galidraani's to get to this point. Flanked by her sister as the pair made their way into the main celebration hall, a tight grip of anxiety coiled in her stomach as she looked around the room and back at her sister. At least she had the privilege of not losing someone of her own blood; many in the common Galidraani soldiery and even the nobility had embraced such brutal losses over the past years. Parents, siblings and children of many an esteemed noble house perished on half a dozen battlefields so far away from home, even her fathers larger than life colleague General Barran had suffered losses of his own at Ziost. She sometimes questioned if the human cost of Galidraans struggle would be realised in this lifetime, or be merely shuttled away and glorified for another party propaganda poster celebrating 'patriotic martyrs'.


The two sisters could not be more starkly different in attire and attitudes, Enedina opted to dress in the formal attire of the Galidraani officer core, and her sister opted for a look perhaps more fitting to a social setting. Looking like a peacock with too many medals and gold seemed to be the national pastime of the male nobility in the Galidraani army, and never had she felt out of place than she did among this obscenely decorated gang of her father's generals. Enedina wondered how Erskine Barran could walkabout with the dozens of medals stamped on his coat, and the elderly Galidraani general had so many awards and accolades that she was surprised the Barran Patriarch still found space on his jacket for more.

"Shall we make ourselves acquainted then sis?" she asked pensively to Roselina, Enedina had been in many firefights and conflicts but the social battleground still terrified her the most. ​

Roselina looked up to find Enedina pursing her lips like she had tasted a lemon. She frowned and threaded their arms together. "Honestly, the way you're acting you'd think this was torture." Her elder sister had always been serious , but dour? Roselina was beginning to wonder if she recognized the sibling at all.

She shoved this away and masked tension with a delicate laugh. "Let us start with a drink, then." Something told her they were going to need it.

She led Enedina through the crowd, her heels giving her several inches to her already small frame. She could see eye to eye with many of those around her now. She moved with grace that hinted to the hours she had put into events just like this. While her sister and father bled on the battlefield, she had done her best to ensure that support and sympathy remained on the cause.

Whatever it was.

Honestly, she hardly cared. She was more concern with how these wars affected those around her than distant wars. But here they were, safe and alive. Things were moving to be over; she hoped they would see what she done for them behind the scenes. A girl could dream. She'd settle for greeting from her father tonight.

"Ah, here we are." She plucked up two glasses and silently handed one over. Manners were left behind as she tipped hers back in one go. She grimaced past the burn and gasped for breath.

"Better, yes?" She put her empty flute down and grabbed another.

For sipping this time.

 

[Djorn Bline]

V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
RAVELIN | BASTION

Nothing was over, not to him at least.

This long battle was over, but the war was far from over.

He was cursed to endless fighting, all for the sake of ideology and values. Purging any elements of dissidence that disagreed to his line of thinking which in that case happened to be all, if not, most of the Galaxy. Too narrow minded to see his own faults, believing that this crusade of his was righteous and worthy. It was costly, losing men and some bits of him. Too far gone from backing out from this commitment of his.

The streets of bastion paraded with joy and confetti, banners waved in pride, and cantinas overfilled with soldiers and other patrons of different backgrounds. Behind its facade Djorn had other plans than getting drunk and having laughs.

"Usury," the Imperial greeted the Vice Chancellor, using his codename when the Alliance launched a bold campaign on Felucia which awarded them victory. Suspicious for an Imperial operative and the Vice Chancellor to be meeting? Perhaps, but on a normal day. There were too many bodies to keep an eye out on, especially packed together.

"Let's take a ride, shall we? I've got important business to speak with you."

Aerarii Tithe​

 

[Kiara Ayres]

The only experience she had with the Imperator was through impersonal diplomatic gathering of which she had never been given the opportunity to speak to him individually. As such, her knowledge of the man was received largely through her predecessors so she was not too taken aback by his backhanded compliment and simply offered a small smile and a nod. "We've had a shift in our government. This is a new era for the Concord." She replied plainly.

The mention of their previous association with the Sith Empire stung her but she showed no change in her expression, instead offering a nod as to show she was actively listening. It was a dark time for the Concord with effects that were still far-reaching despite their public apology and denouncing of the situation. Their relations with other major powers had been shaken and only now were they beginning to rekindle them, though there was a limit to how far their relationship with the New Imperial Order would go.

"No, I haven't. It's certainly a change." She replied, saying the least. It was no secret that the Concord disapproved of the philosophies the Imperials partook in but it was unspoken of and philosophical debates were hardly polite conversation. "But you certainly know how to host a celebration." She attempted to take the conversation in a more positive direction.

"It's nice to meet people outside of the Concord's social circle for once. Speaking of which-" She offered the same friendly smile and handshake that she had offered the Imperator to the woman accompanying him. "Kiara Ayres." She introduced herself informally. "Apologies. I just haven't had the pleasure of speaking to the Imperator before." She was engrossed in conversation when the other Jedi walked over so she could offer little more greeting than a small bow of the head while the was otherwise occupied.

Irveric Tavlar Orika Ryv

 

[The Dark Inquisitor]

During her time at Coruscant's temple, she had kept an ear out for the many wars and battles the Galactic Alliance and the Jedi Order was partaking in. However, a lot of details got fuzzy with her training still going on and her mentors telling her to keep her mind on the practice with a lightsaber, meditation and her improving of her discipline. Thus, she was surprised to found out, via public radio chatter from a news station of sorts in her room, she bolted out of the doors of the temple. After many excuses and apologies for not staying and training, she took to the streets where the celebrations were taking place. Her dark slim robes blew slightly in the breeze as she moved, her twin sabers on her hips and the singular glove covering her left hand.

The young Zabrak ran for what felt like an hour before arriving at a long street filmed with returning soldiers and even some Jedi. She wandered the vast sea of joyous people, when she saw a cantina with tens of voices sounding from its doors. She could feel the aura and emotional state of everyone around her, from the tail ends of the street and beyond, to the cantina where many Jedi were situated. Taking a deep breath to steady her giddy mind, Kinhaes walked into the crowded bar, only to be met with a very loud, shout of, "FREE DRINKS AT THE BAR," from a Jedi by the looks of him. The swarm of people caught her off guard as she looked on at how many were there. "By the Force's Grace," Kinhaes said, almost at a whisper as she stood there.

Taking a deep breath again, she wandered slowly to the gathering of people. She had some credits on her, and she disliked the taste of many alcoholic drinks, so she was fine with something easier. Finding a small gap in the crowd to one side, she gave the bartender a small wave, hoping to be noticed with the huge sea of celebratory Jedi and contributors to their victory.

@Anyone

 

[Sergeant Omen]

​

TAG: @Kinhaes Maluibon+Open​

​

Omen would admit that the Nuna sandwich was pretty good by cantina standards as he scrolled through the news on his datapad. Nothing real exciting, just the regular state of the galaxy updates. He probably didn't need to do it but it was something that he had built into his schedule every day, mostly so he knew which routes he could fly and which were closed off to him. The Clone glanced up from his pad to get a glance at the room in time to see the woman that was Auteme shouting out drunkenly at the crowd that they were getting their drinks paid by someone while the crowd replied back in drunken laughter as the man known as Dagon Kaze tried to pull the woman off of the bar. He glanced at his stun pistol and wondered if he should help expedite the process but both were dressed in NJO/GA clothes and he didn't need to create a scene where there didn't need to be.​

​

His eyes widen in surprise when he glanced at Kadan talking to a very beautiful Twilek woman. With a little chuckle, he thought about what Aayla might say if he sent her a message saying that Kadan was cheating on her but he already had a low enough standing with the Padawan that he didn't need to make it sink to the bottom of Kamino's seas. Besides, he didn't have her comm number anyways and they might have an open relationship for when they didn't see each other for a while. That is what he heard some couples did if they had to stay at different corners of the galaxy a lot. What interested him more was a female Zabrak NJO Padawan who clearly looked out of place. She clearly was not used to the environment and her face showed her distress as she was awash in a sea of bar partons clamoring for free drinks. You know what, my "I will mess up this conversation" meter hasn't filled up yet. Let us go help her out... He quickly stuffed his datapad into his cloak and got up before pushing his way over to where she was at the bar. He stepped in front of the Padawan, putting a 50 credit chip on the bar for faster service compared to the waves of bar patrons trying to get their hands on a free glass. "Two glasses of Meiloorun Juice, please." The Bartender quickly nodded, slipping the chip into his pocket before getting to work on their drinks. With the turn of his heel, the ARC handed over his precious helmet to the person he was buying a drink for. "Here, it has noise damping, helps with the crowds. I should know since I use it for the same purpose most of the time and it looks like you need this a lot more than me right now." With a small nod of the head to the outside tables he asked. "Talk outside when we get our drinks?"​