Dominion [RNR] The Midas Touch || Dominion of New Cov

"Hmmm." Aiden voiced with a nod before continuing. "I see....." The stubborn side of Aiden wanted him to continue to pest but he thought better of it. He of all people would know the art of wanting to be left alone or even having a calm exterior and on the inside things were less peaceful.

He set these meetings up, gathered the group in a circle and would talk about acceptance, passing, moving on. The pain would always be there, but you had to move past it. He could hear their thanks, that is was good and nice of him to have these meetings. And for majority of those that attended, it did help them.

Cerys Dyn said:
"I'm just... processing."

Cerys Dyn said:
"Too many new faces. Too much noise."

"I understand that....." Aiden whispered, his mind drifted to that night. Lightsaber piercing flesh, heart. The fire, the heat on his face. His home reduced to ashes, and his enemies lay before him. Aiden closed his eyes for a brief moment, letting himself regain control and for a few seconds that feeling passed.

The feeling of.....uselessness, powerlessness.

"You know......" Aiden began to say just above a whisper before he heard her voice speak again.

Cerys Dyn said:
“The bids are escalating. Some of these pieces are going to fetch more than starships.”

"Perhaps, its for charity so let it be so."

Aiden crossed his arms as he stared out across the crowd.

"You don't have to tell me....." Aiden started to speak, and in that aspect he did mean it. She didn't have to say, it wouldn't make a difference for him. But for her, it might help. Whether it was good or bad...

Only time would tell.

"What's really bothering you?"

Makai Dashiell · Friday at 10:30 AM

NEW COV

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With :

Phylis Alince ,

Phillip Slate ,

Sibylla Abrantes ,

Nolan Knightfall

"A pleasure to meet you Phillip. Please, just Makai, no need to be formal."

It was interesting to see another being in the galaxy who actually wore glasses beyond his mother-in-law. Considering wealth of medical treatments available, Makai always found it an interesting choice to not get something corrected. Yet before he could ponder on much else, Master Alince mentioned something that intrigued him. She had donated the crystal.

"My parents are well. Dad is still busy expanding the business and doing his salvage work. Mom has recovered well, she runs a flight school on Ceto. She's also been helping Myra and I with our youngest, so keeping her busy." He paused for a moment, continuing. "Business is great. Mining is booming, I've expanded into agriculture.Thank you for asking. I trust you've been well? Life has been well for you?"

"I'm here like anyone else, to support to refugees. I'm a crystal and gemstone collector as well, quite a few interesting items. I just haven't gone crazy bidding because I don't want to be that guy....your donation is massively impressive. I'm a little jealous you came across such a find."

He turned slightly to Phillip.

"I own an extensive network of gemstone mines. You're welcome to come and take what you need. Nothing as fancy as Master Alince but I do have a firegem mine."

Sibylla Abrantes said:
The Singing Tree of the Eternal Flame
Max Bid: 2,100 UCs Nolan Knightfall Nolan Knightfall
Current Bids:

2,000 UCs Makai Dashiell Makai Dashiell

Bid : 3,100UCs

Phillip Slate · Friday at 11:06 AM

Tags:

Phylis Alince

Makai Dashiell

Phillip could hear the datapad beeping in his pocket as more and more bids were placed, but he fought the invasive urge to check. He made his confirmation to himself that he wasn't going to check it anymore. It brought his mood down and so he was going to remove what was upsetting him. That made sense, right? It was logical.

"I don't think I'll be a Knight anytime soon. I have a lot of...things I still need to work on before I'd be ready to take on a task like that myself. It's why I had my eye on the crystal now...but I don't have enough credits to keep matching up with the bid. My father wouldn't approve of me spending it on "junk""

Which was amusing to Phillip in a small way, considering there were some things up for bid that he was sure his father would jump to grab even though Phillip thought they'd be useless. It was interesting how people had different values on what was important...Where was he again? Oh. Makai was talking to him.

He blinked however when Makai said there was no need to be formal. Phillip had been raised on formalities. You should use titles, you should look up to your betters. Of course, it was always hard for him to see art snobs as his betters...but Makai wasn't an art snob...or at least he didn't look like one. He listened carefully between Phylis and Makai's discussion, his nose giving a small wrinkle at the mentioning of "the youngest". Gross, a child. His eyes lit up with a small sparkle at the mentioning of Firegems.

"Oh. My father likes to incorporate those into some of his sculptures when he can. Apparently he believes they work great for small details like the eyes. I'm not sure myself, but he's the artist."

Lysander von Ascania · Friday at 12:01 PM

OBJECTIVE I:
All That Glitters

Sibylla Abrantes |

Cassian Abrantes |

Cerys Dyn

It didn’t take much for Lysander’s attention to be drawn to Sibylla. Composed as ever, she held her cards close— an enigma wrapped in elegance. Yet, unlike him, her focus kept returning to an item obviously desired by many.

However, the lightness of her touch did elicit a smirk from his lips, as he then lowered his tone to meet her own; he would ensure the words remained only for her. "Trying to distract me now?" he murmured, his voice laced a hint of amusement. "Your tactics are lacking in subtlety."

Shifting his attention, Lysander extended a hand to Cassian with a firm, but respectful shake. Tall. Check. Strong. Check. A man who appeared capable of pulling stray any night of the week in the Mid-Rim—check. “As Sibylla mentioned, I’m Lysander von Ascania— a Padawan of the Order of Shiraya. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

The boy’s head tilted slightly while arching an eyebrow as his gaze traced the contours of the elder Abrante’s arms and broad shoulders. “Indeed, I’ve heard many good things. I’d say you fit the exact description I was given,” he finally added with a subtle nod; there was a touch of dry humor in his tone.

Then, he looked back to the girl; mirth wove across Lysander's youthful features as he continued. "Escaping the raid was one thing," he mused, "but ensuring her safety from any additional threats since has been a battle in itself. But I am relieved that she stands here now, able to retell the tale."

When the next question was proposed, his expression hardened, wondering if he should be ashamed or not. Admitting that he was familiar with Lady Velvet’s work did make him feel slightly vulnerable. 1000 Wookie Hearts had been disappointing to say the least; the title and cover art were rather misleading.

His gaze drifted downward, settling on the glass before him, debating whether he should allow a moment of rare indulgence, before finally allowing the liquid to brush his lips. By then, he noted that the signed books displayed for auction had finally received a bid.

"Well, I suppose I’ll be the first to confess," he began, voice low. "Though, I find that Lady Velvet’s works lack the heavier complexities and emotional depth that bring any.. true satisfaction. They require minimal effort to follow and are all too predictable— probably more suitable as escapism for the lonely housewife, if I had to guess."

Lips pressing together now, he collected his thoughts, hoping to not sound so blunt the next time he spoke. “Personally, I prefer shows with stories that are more rich– like Upton Manor or Corelliaton, and the myriad of tropes explored. I’d say the last season was rather perfect, with its portrayal of conflicting duties from opposing sides. Forbidden love, if you will. It heightens the stakes.. and well, makes the emotions more intense.”

Questions lingered at the tip of his tongue; he wanted to engage further with Cassian, perhaps to inquire whether anything on the auction list had caught his attention. But he held back for now, choosing to remain silent and spare the two from suffering through a potential monologue.

Cerys Dyn · Friday at 2:16 PM

“She acts like she’s entitled to him just because she’s...beautiful and diplomatic and—”

The words had left Cerys’ mouth before she could stop them. Not loud, but definitely audible. She clapped a hand over her face the moment the sentence ended, a quiet groan escaping behind her fingers.

“Sit down,” she hissed sharply to Aiden, not even looking at him. “Please. Just—sit down.”

Her other hand braced against her temple as if trying to hold the thoughts inside. For a long, brittle moment, she said nothing.

Then, finally— “When I was young… my sister Eira was taken.”

The words were soft, low. Not shaky, but restrained like a band pulled taut.

“It shattered something. I couldn’t breathe for weeks. I used to dream I could’ve done something. That I should’ve done something.”

A beat. Her hands slowly lowered, folded neatly in her lap.

“When Master El-Vana came to our home... she didn’t promise to bring Eira back. She promised me freedom. From that ache. From the weight of what I couldn’t change. She said the Jedi path could teach me to feel without falling. To exist without needing. I clung to that like it was the air I craved.”

Her lekku shifted with the memory, brushing over her shoulder.

“And now she’s gone, too.”

Her fingers found one of her lekku, tracing a slow, absent line along its curve. She didn’t look at Aiden. Her gaze was fixed on something far away and internal.

“I miss her. More than I want to. And I know what that means. It means I failed her. I let myself care. I let her in, and now she’s gone and I…”

She paused again. Not a sob. Just breath. Raw and careful.

“Now there’s something else. Something I never had. Something that was never mine to begin with and still… somehow, I feel like I’m losing it.”

A dry laugh, sharp and bitter.

“I don’t want this. Any of it. I want to be clean. I want to do my work. I want the Force to move through me without it getting tangled in grief and doubt and... longing.”

Her voice dipped even quieter.

“Have you ever lost someone, Aiden?”

It wasn’t a plea. But it was the closest she’d come to one.

| OUTFIT: Jedi robes | TAG: Aiden Porte Sibylla Abrantes Lysander von Ascania |
| EQUIPMENT: Bitterness |

Seth Denko · Friday at 3:24 PM

OBJECTIVE II - THE KNIGHTING

The dirt came first.

A wide, swiping motion—kicking up a gritty veil between them. Not a direct hit, but enough to cloud Seth’s sight. Enough to make the air taste like sand and tension.

Then came the Force.

It tugged at his legs—one forward, one back—an invisible hand trying to split him open like a wishbone. His footing buckled. His balance staggered.

But he didn’t fall.

Instead, Seth dropped low and rolled with it, angling his body into a rough slide that bled off the pull and kept him from crashing face-first. His boots carved a short arc in the dirt, and he rose back to a crouch, dust clinging to the sweat on his brow.

Nar Shaddaa didn’t teach grace. It taught survival.

And this? This felt familiar.

"Alright," he muttered, brushing a bit of grime from his shoulder, "guess we’re doing this loud."

He didn’t charge. He shifted—closing distance in a half-circle, trying to angle off Dagos’ lead foot. His movements weren’t elegant, but they were quick, controlled, with the kind of sharp twitch that came from years of bar fights and worse.

Then came the first jab: Seth snapped a left hand forward, a straight punch meant more to test range than land clean—but he let his Kraljica heritage bleed into it, just a little. A flicker of static crackled faintly across his knuckles, harmless on its own but enough to tingle if it touched skin. Not Force lightning. Not fancy.

Just live current from an aquatic bloodline that knew how to bite.

And as he followed through, Seth twisted on his heel and attempted to drive a short elbow upward toward Dagos’ chest—close, tight, not flashy. Meant to crowd him. To disrupt his rhythm. Let the shorter fighter try and swing wild if he wanted.

Seth was here to smother.

Dagos Terrek |

Ala Quin |

Lorn Reingard

Lorn Reingard · Friday at 3:39 PM

Ala Quin

Lorn stayed there in the dirt a moment too long, stunned, as the imprint of her weight faded from his chest and the jungle breeze cooled the spot where her voice had been.

Let go of my wrist, please.

The words replayed in his mind like a mantra, soft and sharp all at once. He'd released her immediately, of course he had, but it was the way she'd said it. Like he'd crossed a line he didn't know was there.

And then she'd walked away.

Forfeit, she'd told the official, voice like unraveling silk. And then she was gone, slipping between the vines and sunbeams like smoke. Lorn sat up slowly, hand still hovering in the air as if unsure whether to reach for something that wasn't there anymore.

His chest felt hollow. Not aching, stunned. Like something had been there one moment and yanked out the next, and now all that remained was the echo of pressure. He got to his feet stiffly, boots scuffing the edge of the ring as he brushed at the dust clinging to his sides. His hair stuck to the sweat along his neck, and he suddenly felt very aware of how many people were staring. The crowd around the ring had gone quiet. A few Covie officials exchanged uncertain glances. A handful of onlookers whispered to one another.

He hated it.

Every instinct told him to disappear, fade into the trees, go lick his wounds somewhere quiet. But another part, a louder part, surged forward in the space Ala had just vacated.

What had he done?

He turned, cutting through the gathered onlookers with his jaw tight and fists clenched. He could feel heat rising in his face again, but this time it wasn't embarrassment - it was confusion, frustration, worry. He didn't care if people stared. He didn't care what rumors they were spinning. He just needed to know if she was okay.

He broke into a jog, pushing past a group of padawans and brushing shoulders with a startled warrior as he ducked beneath a moss-draped archway. The sounds of the sparring ground faded behind him, replaced by the steady hum of the jungle and the distant chatter of temple life. He spotted her finally, halfway down the outer path, near where the sunlight turned gold on stone. She was walking fast, like if she kept moving, her emotions wouldn't catch her.

"Hey!" he called out, voice rough, loud enough to carry.

He caught up to her in a few quick strides, breath tight in his lungs, not from exertion but from everything else that boiled beneath the surface. The look in her eyes earlier had rattled him more than any strike could. He didn't even know what emotion he'd seen in her. Fear? Sadness? Guilt?

"I-" He hesitated. Stopped in front of her. "Did I… do something?"

His voice wasn't sharp, wasn't defensive. It was low, cautious. Vulnerable.

"I mean, if you want space, if you want me to leave you alone, I will. But I just… I need to know. What did I do? Why do I keep making you upset?"

He tried to hold her gaze, but it wasn't easy. Something behind his eyes flickered, pain, but deeper than that.

"I'm not… the easiest person. I know that." he added softly. "But I don't try to make you uncomfortable. I never wanted that."

The silence between them hung heavy in the thick jungle air, louder than any crowd could ever be.

And all he could do now was wait.

Ala Quin · Friday at 4:27 PM

She heard him before she saw him—“Hey!”—cutting through the quiet with a voice laced in something tangled. Her shoulders tensed, but her feet didn’t stop.

Not until he caught up to her. Not until he stood there, sweat and dust and worry, blocking the sun like a question she wasn’t ready to answer.

Ala blinked at him, still caught in the whirlwind of everything she hadn’t said. He looked like he’d run through a battlefield, not a jungle path. She felt the edges of herself crumbling again.

"Did I… do something?"

Her lips parted, but no words came. Then—

“What?” she breathed, head tilting, brow drawn tight. “No. No, you didn’t do anything. Why would you think—”

He pressed on.

"Why do I keep making you upset?"

That made her stop cold. Her face scrunched—wrinkled brow, furrowed nose, a confused, slightly heartbroken kind of look that was so Ala it almost didn’t belong in a scene like this.

“You don’t make me upset,” she said softly, sincerely, like the very idea was absurd. “You never have. Not even once.”

She looked up at him, and then—for just a moment—down at his chest. And then quickly back up. Then back down again. She blushed hard, the heat blooming up her throat like creeping ivy.

He was standing so close. And she felt so small.

“You’ve only ever made me feel… seen.”

Her voice trembled on the last word. And that scared her most of all.

She twisted her fingers in the hem of her sleeve, staring past him for a moment as if the trees could give her a script for this part of her life.

“I think I used to be someone who could have handled whatever this is. Who wouldn’t be so…” Her breath caught. “Scattered.”

She smiled then, but it was small and aching. Not for him—for herself. Or who she used to be.

“I want to be whole again.” The confession slipped out quietly, like something that had been sitting behind her ribs, waiting for just the right crack to escape.

She looked at him again. Really looked. And the look in his eyes—his quiet, stormy steadiness—almost undid her.

She reached out before she could stop herself, fingertips brushing his arm. Not to pull him closer. Not to say stay. Just to say: you’re real. You matter.

And then, barely above a whisper:

“You didn’t break anything. I’m just still… putting pieces together.”

She stepped back. Not far. Just enough.

Her smile flickered one more time, and she nodded once—grateful, heavy, unresolved.

And then she turned again.

Not fleeing.

But retreating—to catch her breath before she forgot how.

Lorn Reingard

Lorn Reingard · Friday at 7:19 PM

Ala Quin

Lorn stood still in the golden light, her touch a fading echo on his arm, the warmth of it lingering longer than it should have. Her words, had landed with the weight of a lifetime behind them.

"You didn't break anything. I'm just still… putting pieces together."

He didn't follow her. He didn't need to. He understood.

For the first time in a long time, something inside him clicked into quiet clarity. He hadn't done something wrong. He hadn't pushed too hard. He'd simply reached someone still in the middle of finding her footing. Still healing. Still learning how to breathe in a galaxy that had cracked beneath her.

And Force, if anyone in the galaxy knew what that felt like, it was him.

He watched her go, not with pain or confusion this time, but with a soft resignation. A quiet promise. He didn't need to chase her. He didn't need to fix anything. He just needed to be there.

Lorn's thoughts wandered, like they always did in the quiet, back through the burned-out ruins of his own past. The first time his heart had shattered, he'd been barely more than a boy, forced to watch the one he loved walk into a future that didn't include him. She hadn't chosen it. Neither of them had. But the choice had been made all the same, and it had carved something deep and hollow in him.

He'd had his Master then. His friends. He could still hear the laughter around the campfire, still remember how they never let him drown in it. How they'd caught him.... every time.

And then, years later, when the universe collapsed a second time, when those same friends and that same Master were nothing more than dust and grief, he'd somehow found a new shore. The Shirayan Jedi. Naboo. People who believed in something bigger, who welcomed him back into something like home.

They had picked up his pieces. And now, maybe, he could do the same for her.

Not to fix her. Not to change her. But to hold space. To be someone she didn't have to perform for, didn't have to impress. Someone she could lean on when she was ready. He exhaled slowly through his nose, muscles unwinding inch by inch.

"Okay." he said aloud, softly. Not to her. Just to the moment.

His eyes lifted to the trees she'd vanished behind, and something steadier filled his chest. Not resolve. Not hope. Just care. Quiet, unshakable care. He would be her friend. He would be her constant, if she wanted it. He would help her pick up the pieces, one breath at a time.

But Force help him, he was going to stop acting like an idiot around her. He'd be the strong one this time. The quiet shield. The steady place she could return to, if and when she ever needed it.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

-Thread Exit-

Bastila Sal-Soren · Friday at 7:51 PM

“Way I heard it,” Bastila turned slightly to get eyes on the new comer of the already rather impromptu conversation. He seemed fairly normal, slightly travelled, maybe a few years older then her brother. Bast’s guard wouldn’t drop that easily though. “It’s not supposed to be fun for them. Enjoying it leads to the dark side or somethin’”

“Oooh yeah tha’s a thing remember.” The big set man who had spoken first responded, pausing to look down towards Bastila’s increasingly obvious small frame as she failed to hold in the scoffing noise that came from her throat. “Ain’t it?”
“Of course it is you fool.” The alien spoke up, tapping his companion on the arm. “Remember the whole Sith war thingy and the first whose you whatsits. They all liked to fight didn’t they.”
“Ooooh yeah.” He repeated. “So I suppose this is more or less a way of showing that these Jedi aren’t the bad sort.”

Bastila, now very much staring at the pair in disbelief took several moments to regain her brain cells, her hood pulling away slightly from her face to reveal it to the group around her, the two talking may not have noticed, but she could be sure the late interruption would have. She’d just have to live with it now, the family resemblance to the currently talking Jedi Master taking up the whole gatherings attention was obvious, but that didn’t mean everyone knew who Briana was…surely. Even less would know that she had a younger sister, one who was younger then the other younger sister. Besides all anyone really cared about was Brandyn. The twin sister.

She smirked to herself.

“So your telling me,” She stepped in closer to the man, falling in to stand alongside him, hands in pockets while she gave a very effortless look towards the gathered crowd. “They are going to fight each other and do it miserably?” She shrugged. “Still seems like fun to me.”
She was about to move on, end the distraction when she realised she really didn’t have anything better to do.
“Bas…Edessa Akeraul. I was travelling through when I got told this was on and,” She looked at Viz straight in the eyes, hoping for a read. “Figured I’d check it out.”

Brandyn Sal-Soren · Friday at 9:22 PM

Brandyn let out a breath that was half a chuckle and half a sigh as Blaire swung her arms around him, smacking his shoulder like she used to when they were teenagers and he got too sentimental.

"You're lucky I'm not still nursing that old marble bust trauma," he murmured near her ear, the memory bittersweet and sharp as glass. "I still hear it shatter when I close my eyes sometimes."

He held her a moment longer before pulling back, smiling softly. Her words meant more than he could say. Not just the congratulations, but the faith. That quiet promise that she'd always be there.

As Lossa slid in beside them, Brandyn didn’t miss a beat. “If there’s a body to hide, I assume it’s Blaire’s fault. My...days...for that are over...”

He turned to his cousin and offered a one-armed hug, warm and sincere. “You look amazing, Lossa. And dangerous. That’s exactly the vibe I would’ve chosen if I wasn’t stuck in these blasted ceremonial robes.”

There was a pause then, as he looked at the two women beside him. Family.

Brandyn didn’t speak the names they all carried behind their smiles. He didn’t say "Mom" or "Dad." Didn’t mention Blaire’s son, or the daughter Lossa had been robbed of. The ache was present all the same, a steady hum beneath the banter, shared in the way their eyes held a little longer than necessary, the way the jokes softened near the end.

He wanted to tell Lossa—wanted to say that there was a lead, something tangible, something real. But Blaire stood there too, glowing and wounded in equal measure. Brandyn swallowed the truth down and held it for later.

"Queen Kalantha’s probably hiding from you, Blaire," he said with a smirk. "But if Aiden’s smart, he’s in the jungle pretending he didn’t just hear you casually drop his full name like a challenge."

Then, as the distant sounds of the tournament floated toward them, Brandyn glanced toward the open door and laughed. “Your pilot, huh? He’s got heart, I’ll give him that. But I’ve seen some of those fighter's train. Let’s just say the mat’s not the only thing that’s going to get wiped.”

He bumped her shoulder gently. “Care to place a wager? Loser owes the winner a drink and one family dinner where we don’t talk about work, politics, or planetary evacuations.”

He paused for a moment. “...We can talk about babies, though. I’m contractually required to let Cybelle gush for at least fifteen uninterrupted minutes.”

| TAG: Blaire Sal-Soren Lossa Aureus Briana Sal-Soren Bastila Sal-Soren Vizion Trozky |

Aiden Porte · Friday at 9:44 PM

OBJ: 1
Tags:

Cerys Dyn

Aiden stood still for a moment as he waited to hear what she would say, if she said anything at all. And his thoughts drifted to

Blaire Sal-Soren

He would have to make a point to go see her again, he wondered how she was. It was here that Aiden got lost in his own thoughts. Then Cerys decided to start talking.

Cerys Dyn said:
“She acts like she’s entitled to him just because she’s...beautiful and diplomatic and—”

"She is beautiful, not entitled I'd say." Aiden chuckled lightly as he thought about Blaire. "Not really diplomatic, in my opinion. She does have a certain rarity to her, and its not her beauty, its something else. I hope she knows it."

Aiden shook his head to get himself out of the daydream he was in, and then glanced over to Cerys, as her hands were over her face and he could hear a small groan. "What happened?"

Cerys Dyn said:
“Sit down,”

Cerys Dyn said:
“Please. Just—sit down.”

"Okay!" Aiden said rather abruptly, as he sat down as she spoke. Apparently he struck a nerve, while that wasn't his intention, he would just make it a point to not asking anyone anything every again.

He was lying...he would continued to ask. He would be that guy.

Apparently it was the will of the force.

Cerys Dyn said:
“When I was young… my sister Eira was taken.”

Thus the words had begun, Aiden listened attentively as she spoke. Listening to everything she spoke of and not looking to miss anything. They all had their own sorts of trouble and trauma. It didn't make one or another's more deep than the other. The ability to help one another through them is what truly mattered. Something Aiden had tried his best to do, even with his own trauma.

Aiden hoped his words wouldn't be disrespectful towards her, and that wasn't what he would try to do. It was just his own opinion and his own beliefs. But since when did anything go according to plan.

He would assume there was a thank you or maybe a slap in the face.

"Cerys, there is nothing wrong with caring, or missing someone you cared about. Nothing at all....." Aiden glanced down for a moment as his mind drifted to Esme all the good things she was, and all the good things she could've been.

Cerys Dyn said:
“I don’t want this. Any of it. I want to be clean. I want to do my work. I want the Force to move through me without it getting tangled in grief and doubt and... longing.”

Cerys Dyn said:
“Have you ever lost someone, Aiden?”

"There is no easy way to live this life Cerys...." Aiden said as he looked over to her. "This path is not an easy one, you have to choose what you are going to keep and what you are going to let go. I've lost someone who I loved with all my heart. Someone I imagined spending the rest of my life with. And I lost her, not once but twice....."

Aiden cleared his throat for a moment as he felt his voice crack just a bit. "And I am still here, doing the very best I can. That's all you can do, for yourself and for those that were lost, and for those that are still here."

The Padawan cleared his throat, as he regained his bearings for the moment.

"Grief and doubt have swallowed me whole for far too long. Almost to the point that I wonder every day why I'm still here. And that answer is very simple. I have people here who need me, whether they know it or not. And now you know it to."

His thoughts drifted to Lorn, Inara, Blaire, Brandyn, Dreidi....all of them.

He couldn't leave them, not yet.

Cassian Abrantes · Friday at 10:22 PM

Objective: 1
Tags:

Sibylla Abrantes

Lysander von Ascania

Sibylla Abrantes said:
"Well, I was winning. Then I was promptly outbid; It appears there are others looking to take the J-type for themselves."

Cassian smirked and lightly cocked his head to the side. "Well, that's something we are going to have remedy." The young officer gave her a gentle nudge at the jest of spoken only good things. It was nice to be out here, just living. It seemed as if it had been too long at least for him since he was able to just enjoy the peace.

Cass was promptly introduced to Lysander whom looked to be a very smart individual. He shook his hand and there was command and presence, at which was very good to put a face to the name itself. "It's always a pleasure to meet a Jedi, Lysander." He gave Lysander and good strong nod and smile, as it was indeed a pleasure.

It was added in by Sibylla that he was the one whom helped her escape to safety during the Mandalorian attack. "Ah, that was you. On behalf of our family we owe you a great debt. I'm not sure what we would do if this one was lost." Cassian looked over to Sibylla and gave her a small wink.

She could take care of herself, that was no doubt, but she was still his little sister. No matter her age, he would always have that protective instinct for her.

Lysander von Ascania said:
"but ensuring her safety from any additional threats since has been a battle in itself. But I am relieved that she stands here now, able to retell the tale."

"I'm sure you are more than up to the task. Don't hesitate to reach out if you ever need anything."

Cassian smiled as his gaze wandered around them, taking in the sights, smiles and everything in between. Just as he looked back over to the duo, Sibylla had brought up Lady Velvet.

"Is she the one that writes those over the top romance novels? There's a few I've seen you read when you think no one is watching?" Cassian spoke curiously as he looked to Sibylla. "I do have to admit that I have read one or two of her works."

Lysander von Ascania said:
“Personally, I prefer shows with stories that are more rich– like Upton Manor or Corelliaton, and the myriad of tropes explored. I’d say the last season was rather perfect, with its portrayal of conflicting duties from opposing sides. Forbidden love, if you will. It heightens the stakes.. and well, makes the emotions more intense.”

"Ah, forbidden love, I will have to agree with you Lysander, that does heighten the stakes. I tend to think there is more sadness towards the end of some of those though."

Nolan Knightfall · Friday at 11:38 PM

New Cov – Ilic – Mishra Tapcafe
Objective: All That Glitters
NPC(s): Elias Xavier, Arthur Sterling

Not sparing the Dashiell heir another glance, the Knightfall's attention remained on the bidding war commencing between several parties. However, after a few minutes, a message pinged on his datapad. Glancing down, the Silent Philanthropist only spared an imperceptible raise of the eyebrow at the message. A joke, an insult, or a misunderstanding? Whatever the case, it was most likely designed to get a rise out of him. What would be the appropriate reaction?

Perhaps, a simple smile and shrug of the shoulders as his polite gesture fell upon deaf eyes and ears. He could take a small jab at his person and see the idea of the humor, if that was what it was. It did not mean it resonated with him. There was no real mirth there. Only a perfect fabrication that would fool all, including

Makai Dashiell .

Now that's over with.

Tapping his earpiece for a moment, the Rich One's contact lenses and earpiece together tuned into the conversations of every individual nearby. Filtering through the nearby conversations and recording them for future review, Nolan's attention shifted towards the assembled crowd and the various discussions. He could catch up on all the gossip and shop talk without needing to actually be part of any conversation.

All the while, he inputted his next bids into his datapad before entering them into the auction system.

</ Shiraya's Embrace - 4,600 UCs Bid | The Moonveil Pendant - 1,300 UCs Bid | The Stone of Echoes - 4,100 UCs Bid | The Singing Tree of the Eternal Flame - 3,200 UCs Bid | First Edition Signed Lady Velvet Novels Set - 2,100 UCs Bid | Private Holocall Session Ask Me Anything* with Lady Velvet - 2,600 UCs Bid | J-type Apailana-class Elite Transport - 13,100 UCs Bid | Lotus Expeditionary Information Frigate - 11,100 UCs Bid. >

</ Bids submitted to Sibylla Abrantes . >

Voices and faces began to be tracked within his contact lenses and earpiece. Information gathering had become a necessary undertaking for both of his lifestyles. Anything and everything could be helpful for him to better understand the people and factions that surrounded Knightfall Enterprises and himself.

Silently, he watched from his seat as he observed all, waiting and listening.

Direct:

Sibylla Abrantes |

Makai Dashiell || Indirect:

Edrick Edo |

Boggo Flib |

Verity Suun

Phylis Alince · 2025-04-19T00:49:01-0400

Sibylla Abrantes

Nolan Knightfall

Phillip Slate

Makai Dashiell

Phylis huffed slightly. "Hmmph, the crystal is hardly junk, but yes, there are interested parties here which can outbid you, I feel. Still, remember me if you'd like to get one the old-fashioned way. Hmm, as I said, not easy, but perhaps more fulfilling."

Phylis turned her attention back to Makai. "That's good to hear!" she said with feeling. "Hmm, if Tygara was now not so thoroughly turned against 'galaxy people' I might have suggested some opportunities there. Hmmph, Firemane rather destroyed that particular niche I'm afraid."

Phylis reached into her robe and produced a small bag. And from it came her own Parallax crystal. It glowed violet, strongly Light attuned. Phillip would feel the Force energy very clearly from it, and even Makai might feel a sort of…warmth…emanate from it?

"I took two once I, hmm, passed the trials of the Dark Heart. It is greedy, and unwise beside, to take more than you need from a place. Hmmph, has not stopped the occasional person trying, their fate is usually not…pleasant."

She offered it to Phillip to hold it a moment if he wished. There was no point trying to steal it even had he been inclined as it was now locked to her essence alone.

"So, what are you bidding for today, Makai, hmm?" Speaking of, she saw her two bids had been surpassed. She fired off new bids for them.

Bids:

Moonveil Pendant: 1400UC
Stone of Echoes: 4200UC

Makai Dashiell · 2025-04-19T21:17:26-0400

NEW COV

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With :

Phillip Slate ,

Phylis Alince ,

Nolan Knightfall ,

Sibylla Abrantes

"Firegems for the eyes is a choice, given how they glow."

Makai shook his head. Perhaps the art pieces were more mythical in nature. More attuned to the style where such imagery would be seen as beneficial to the artwork. He wasn't educated on art theory and history like his wife and eldest daughter were. If he liked it, he liked it.

Eyes spotted the parallax crystal, finding it one of those fascinating oddities in life. He could see the appeal for Jedi.

"Firemane destroyed the planet I would say. I was there on a holiday and was there during an initial attack from the rebels. Shame what has happened but....perhaps in the future."

As for what he was bidding on....

"Just the various crystals. I dropped a few, didn't want to be rude. Right now fighting it out for the Tree of Eternal Flame. If I win, great. If I don't, I'll still make a donation to the refugee cause. Has anything caught your eye? Odd finding you here...this Jedi Order you are a part of now?"

Bids :

Tree of Eternal Flame : 4,200 UC

Verity Suun · 2025-04-19T21:55:15-0400

Location: Mishra, Ilic, New Cov
Objective: One

Suun turned her attention to a holographic display from her Second's gauntlet. A lengthy review of this Isotope 5 apparently had been conducted by their Engineering department already. Efficient. It was a good motto to live by: always be prepared. Given that it had taken a little time for it to be presented, she assumed they'd done a quick review before affirming it held everything they wished their commanding officer to know. This wasn't the place to review the full contents, so special attention was paid on the summary and a number of hard data charts and their captions. It certainly seemed a promising substance. Not one native to Imperium space. Even if it wasn't their mission, the Emperor would be pleased.

With that in hand, her attention turned back to the display. It would appear this

Nolan Knightfall was inclined to bid on just about everything that caught his eye. If someone else wanted it, he wanted it. What might have been merely a passing fancy at first was obviously a strategy. He was committed to all these credits, even if people continued to submit bids.

So be it. Suun reached out to increase the bid on the Lotus Expeditionary Information Frigate to 13,000 UC (

Sibylla Abrantes ).

She turned to regard those in attendance carefully. "Tap into the local databanks. Find out who this Nolan Knightfall is." He had to be in attendance somewhere. Her thoughts turned to how to settle this affair. Three primary options presented themselves to her, but there was no need to stop at just three. Time would tell what became necessary to achieve victory. In space, a Star never set.

Tag:: Open

Dominion [RNR] The Midas Touch || Dominion of New Cov

More options

Sibylla Abrantes

House Abrantes

Aiden Porte

Character

Makai Dashiell

Mining Idiot

Phillip Slate

Character

Lysander von Ascania

Veiled Disciple

Cerys Dyn

keep the oaths of old

Seth Denko

M O B I U S

Lorn Reingard

Sword of Shiraya

Ala Quin

the wounded heart

Lorn Reingard

Sword of Shiraya

Bastila Sal-Soren

D E S T I N E D

Brandyn Sal-Soren

by Shiraya's grace

Aiden Porte

Character

Cassian Abrantes

Trust

Nolan Knightfall

Your Playboy

Phylis Alince

Badass Bookworm

Makai Dashiell

Mining Idiot

Verity Suun

Astrum

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