Dominion Shifting Tides | Dominion of Devaron

[Kaelos Vryn]

Location: Devaron
Tags: Vera Noble
Equipment: Lightsaber | Jedi Jumpsuit | Utility Belt
​

​

"And you couldn't have asked this when we weren't in the jungle, being eaten to death by little creepy crawlies?"

Kaelos cracked a smile towards Vera Noble , her hands in his as he held them gently. His entire life had just changed in about four minutes and with one simple question and he still wasn't entirely sure if he'd processed that yet.

The best he could do was crack a joke and be regular old Kaelos. So much had changed between him and Vera in just a few brief moments, but yet so much was identical to how it had been for months. Valery Noble hadn't been entirely surprised when Kaelos was open with her about his feelings, and now it made sense why. She likely knew exacty how her daughter felt.

She was, if nothing else, probably more surprised it had taken as long as it had.

With a gentle, caring smile the young Kiffar looked towards his new girlfriend (yes it still felt weird) and nodded. "I would like that" he admitted honestly. He didn't know a lot about her family. He had a mutual respect for Aris Noble . Valery Noble had been a great mentor to him but Kahlil Noble was the one whom he couldn't really say much about. They'd only really crossed on official business.

Maybe dinner would be a chance to get to know Vera's family further. "Dinner... I mean" he started before catching himself and blushing. "Not to say I wouldn't want to be your boyfriend... I'd like that as well... obviously" he continued, tripping over his own words as that somewhat cool demeanour he'd had crumbled within seconds.

"Guess it's my turn to make a fool of myself"

 

[Valery Noble]

​

Outfit: Combat Jumpsuit | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers

Just as the last of the patrol crumpled soundlessly to the ground, a voice — low, calm, and unmistakably amused — slipped through the quiet like a breeze through the trees.

"Nice work."

Valery stepped forward from the shadows, the shimmer of her Force Cloak dissipating around her like a veil of light dust scattering in the sun. She hadn't been there a moment ago — or at least, it hadn't seemed like she was. But her boots made no sound as they touched down beside Connel, and the faint smile tugging at the corners of her mouth was all the confirmation he needed.

She glanced at the unconscious forms, gave a single approving nod, then looked back up at him. There was that slight grin again — subtle, but real. Then she motioned ahead with a tilt of her chin.

"Alright, Shadow. You're point. If you know the way, lead us in."

Her hand brushed against her belt, fingers near her saber but relaxed. The hunt had begun — and this time, they weren't going in loud.

Connel Vanagor ​

 

[Reina Daival]

Location: Devaron Jungles
Objective: 4 - Hunt some Quarra
Tags: Drystan Creed

Tracking. That was one of the things Reina was meant to be learning here, alongside learning how to blend in. That was why she had all the stupid twigs in her head and the mud smeared across her face. It was irritating but she had to focus on the task at hand, as she pointed out to a few strange looking footprints, alongside what seemed to be something dragged through the mud

"Whatever left these is walking on all fours. And they have three claw marks imprinted in them as well. I think that matches up with the Quarra. I think it might have caught something to eat, and is heading back by itself?"

She kept her voice as quiet as she could, not wanting to alert any Quarra that might be nearby. Reina didn't know much about their biology or physiology, so for all she knew they could be able to smell them or hear them from miles away. Either way, she prepared to start moving with Drystan, shaking her head slightly at his next question.

"I believe they're pack hunters. Most depictions I could find of them before I left the Temple showed more than one of them grouped together."

Depictions. Images. Because Reina struggled to read, she mostly relied on visual learning, taking whatever information she could from the images she found in the Archives. If she had read more, maybe she'd have known more about the Quarra physiology...but that was better left in the past. She just had to treat this as a hunt. Of course, it was different to any hunt she was used to. Hunting land based creatures was a whole different world to hunting in the sea.
​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

Get out of our House!
Devaron
Objective 4

First of all… those noise cancelling boots? Awesome. As for moving inward… Fuuuunnn… He knew what she wanted, just by the look on her face. It was time to bring the mayhem. There was a path for that, but if they were going to make the biggest impact, they were going to have to take the access hall he had in mind. There needed to be some sort of insurance policy though.

One second… Stripping what looked to be the powercell from one of the rifles of the patrol, he pulled some fiberchord out of a web gear pocket. Working very quickly, Connel took one of the gas grenades he had himself (knockout gas), and the wire and managed to set up a bit of a trap, setting the powercell on one side of the hallway they would not go down subtly and setting up the fiberchord in a position that would give whoever tripped it a face full of knockout gas. Special Forces trick. “Choose and Lose”. Heh. Non-Lethal, and Hella fun… and we get no surprises behind us.

Waving her to follow to the other hallway he picked up the pace. Her boots were noise cancelling, and he was envious of that, but he had skills too. One of them was a Tactical Mirror that he used to see around corners. That got them as far as three corners when he stopped suddenly. Frak. They set up a laser tripwire… and I can hear a patrol coming. We’re still on the outskirts. You wanna go loud or… He pulled out one of his Throwing Lightknives.

Valery Noble • TAGS​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Objective I: Reforged Alliances
Alliance General Ministry Canton, Fondor
- Spirit of Temperance - Nos Voros - Open -
​

"I call into session this meeting of the Federal Assembly."

Alicio still couldn't get a straight answer from his experts about what exactly happened to rupture the universe as they knew it. The astronomers he'd spoken with cited gravitic surges from beyond their galaxy, caused by smaller galaxies that pulled and pushed and scrambled every starmap they'd treated as immutable gospel. Where these smaller galaxies came from, and why now, and how they hadn't seen it coming thousands of years in advance... well, the prevailing answer was a helpless look, and a shrug of their shoulders.

It didn't matter, in the end. What did matter was picking up the pieces, and rebuilding what was lost. Inspiring hope, in a hopeless time. Easier said than done.

But the Galactic Alliance had survived worse. It would survive this.

He stood at his seat of honor in the center of the Canton, ever a resolute, if mildly blue, expression on his face. "Firstly, I wish to welcome the delegates from Devaron. Your attendance today, in the face of an uproarious, unprecedented astronomical event, is a blessing. One that I urge members of this body to remember."

"Devaron is considering petitioning to rejoin the Galactic Alliance, the details of which can be found in your terminals. Questions remain. And fears are better spoken than silent." The Chancellor let a knowing look pass across his face. He knew the flavor of their discussion today, and resolved to face it head-on.

"I invite the delegation from Devaron to speak, if they wish. Otherwise, I open the floor to discussion."

"How can we help?"

 

[Tel Ahren]

Sienna

​

As had been pointed out in many of the books he had read, jungles were humid.

Devaron's jungles were no different. Hot and humid both, with the sort of pervading stench that made it clear that this was a place where death held just as much sway as life. He'd already found a couple stagnant bogs as he hiked around. He'd pulled off his outer cloak, trying it around his waist and rolling back his sleeves as much as he could just to get some air flow. It meant that the mosquitoes and other bugs flying around had fairly easy access, but between some itching bites or potential heat stroke, he decided the bugs weren't so bad.

The temple—he could still see it behind him, with how its spires poked out of the trees and clouds—had apparently been full of criminals. Armed criminals; not really something for him to deal with, not in their den, at least. He'd decided to go searching all around the temple instead for any isolated pockets of them. Only two or three, he could handle, even with a training saber—they might even be frightened enough by the appearance of a "Jedi with a lightsaber" that they'd surrender without any trouble. That shouldn't be too difficult.

If he ran into the Quarra—semi-sentient reptilian predators that the local Devaronians used as their preferred method of execution, given just how hard to kill they themselves were—he might have more of a problem. Apparently, they were the reason the criminals had started to clear out of the temple of their own accord, rather than wait and see if the packs of the beasts would manage to overrun them in one place. Others decided to stick to the more defensible location.

All told, it made the jungles a hotbed of activity for the day, and not much of it pleasant. So it was that, when he heard the sound of someone else sneaking through the brush coming his way, Tel turned to the sound, training saber in hand and ready to shine its bright blue blade on the possible attacker...

...Only to sense that it was someone else with the Force on their side. Almost certainly a Jedi, from the general sense he could get. "Eh. You melting out here, too?" he asked, putting the training saber back on his belt as he made some conversation with the one that was coming out of the trees. "Thought I was the only one that decided to go looking this direction."

 

[Sienna]

The jungle teemed with life. Intangible strings tugged at her awareness pulling in every direction. The sensation overwhelmed her senses. She'd never been to a world with life as plentiful as a jungle world. Growing up in a desert, each sign of life had stood out against a backdrop of baked sand and the occasional dried bones. Here, every direction she looked made her feel the presence of something living lurking behind more living things.

Fortunately, she'd found something radiant shining like a lighthouse in that dense weave of living matter. She'd been walking that direction ever since she'd been given the go-ahead to explore the jungles by one of the other Jedi. Well, go-ahead was stretching it a little. She'd told them she'd needed a break from the city heat, and simply never specified that break would include a trip through Devaron's jungles.

The presence Sienna sought was close enough that she could make out more details through the Force. It was another Force wielder. They seemed rooted in the Light, which suggested it was another Jedi, likely a Padawan, but she couldn't be sure.

Sienna crept up on where the person would most likely be, the trees and foliage still too thick to make out any shape or silhouette the other might have. She shouldered a blaster rifle, keeping it ready in case she'd terribly misjudged the situation. There were supposedly criminals running around the forest. One lone assailant shouldn't prove too much of a problem, if her senses had indeed terribly misled her.

Pushing away a branch from her path, she took another careful step through the messy tangle of vines and leaves, when a voice called out from directly ahead.

"Eh. You melting out here, too?"
"Thought I was the only one that decided to go looking this direction."

The voice sounded indisputably friendly, she decided. There was a vague familiarity to it, though she couldn't place it anywhere in her memories.

"Melting is an apt way of putting this torture. At the very least, deserts have the decency to be dry," she called back.

She threw the rifle back over her shoulder, holding onto the sling, and fought her way through the forests to come face to face with a young man. Her eyes fell to the saber at his side, and a small wave of satisfaction came over her at the confirmation of her theory. However, the saber also implied he might be a Knight, or worse, a Master Jedi who would find it peculiar to come across a lone Padawan, without a lightsaber of her own, wandering a criminal- and beast-infested jungle by her lonesome.

"Are you out here on an assignment also, Jedi ...?" she let the last syllable linger as a question for his name.

Tel Ahren

 

[Tel Ahren]

Sienna

As he spied the blaster rifle that had just been pointed at him, Tel was glad he'd brought his training saber along after all. Not just for all the reasons that he'd already been thinking of, but because being a casualty to friendly fire would have been embarrassing. He was a little surprised that she didn't have a lightsaber on hand, though—another Padawan like him, then? Might be. "Tel," he replied. "Tel Ahren."

He gave a short nod, paying lip service to the idea of a proper bow.

"Been walking around out here looking for any stragglers from the gang that's set-up in the temple, yeah. Scare them off or get them to surrender, you know how it is." Strange, though, that he hadn't yet found any of them. Even with the teeming life of the jungle, his senses were sharp, and he could still sense that there were more beings to be found out in this direction. Brighter than the animal life that was in the jungle.

Surely, those shining presences he felt had to be the criminals, or someone else that might be hiding out. He'd never known any beasts to be so...hard to ignore. At least they weren't quite so glaring as the one that stood next to him now. One that, he had just noticed, was...possibly taller than him? That was almost impressive. "No lightsaber, either? Care to look with me...?"

From the way he trailed off, it was clear that he was expecting her to supply her own name as well.

 

[Anchat Anura]

Objective II: Coordinating a Jungle Incursion with Mixed-Source Forces
OPEN

The jungles of Devaron had a kind of humidity that reminded Anchat of his home of Great Zilk. It was a faraway place now, a faraway memory. He'd given his career and life to the GADF, and he didn't regret it. But the humidity and warmth was a nice reminder of where he came from.

"All right, soldiers! Line up!" Captain Anchat Anura ordered the recruits. They weren't 'recruits', recruits - they were volunteer soldiers from the Devaron Defense Force, Cathar Militia, and the GADF who wanted to participate in a special operation in navigation and support. It wasn't glorious work, but it needed to be done, and would help Anchat in pushing his own proposals if things went well.

Anchat stood on XI4's shoulder. As near as they could tell, XI4 was an ordinary humanoid Battle Droid, but Anchat had quickly come to appreciate it as one of the most flexible and capable members of his squad.

"I'm sure I'm not what you expected when you signed up for this exercise. I am Captain Anchat Anura of the Galactic Alliance Defense Force, and this is D-Squad. As you can tell, D-Squad consists of myself and a bunch of Droids. That is because I am a third of a meter tall and can't fire a holdout blaster on my own. But that doesn't mean I can't contribute, and that doesn't mean I can't fight. That's the point. Look around you. With us are soldiers from no less than a dozen worlds, each with its own specialty. And we're going to have to work together."

Anchat turned and gestured to Oz, the massive Heavy Weapons Droid that blurred the line between Droid and Walker, "This here is Oz. Oz is an AT-XV Heavy Weapons Platform Droid. He is capable of keeping a local area clear of hostile aircraft in a small, mobile package."

He looked over at his troops and smiled, "Relatively small, anyway. The point is, what would normally require an emplaced gun and a crew and all the logistics it would take to deploy such a thing, Oz can haul that and more to a location and keep it secured against any number of threats, depending on his armament. Today, we've loaded him up with anti-aircraft and anti-vehicle missiles, along with dual-linked twin Magnacasters. Some of you are already familiar with Oz himself, being veterans of the recent Battle of Cathar. It's good to see some of you."

Anchat nodded to several of the Cathar troopers, who gestured back to him. Anchat turned and pointed at the jungle, "This exercise is to get Oz to a position on that mountainside where he will be able to overlook the war games going on in the jungle valley below."

XI4 held up a holo projector, showing the local region, "Those of you who aren't local to Devaron will have to rely on those who are to manage your way through the jungle safely. You've all received training, but every jungle is different, and the map is not the terrain. We'll be hauling heavy ordnance through undeveloped territory on foot with soldiers that some of you have never met before from worlds you've never heard of. Consider that your welcome to the Galactic Alliance Defense Force. Report to your Lieutenants, they have your orders."

 

[Dezorath Barcu]

With a gentle, caring smile the young Kiffar looked towards his new girlfriend (yes it still felt weird) and nodded. "I would like that" he admitted honestly. He didn't know a lot about her family. He had a mutual respect for Aris Noble. Valery Noble had been a great mentor to him but Kahlil Noble was the one whom he couldn't really say much about. They'd only really crossed on official business.

Maybe dinner would be a chance to get to know Vera's family further. "Dinner... I mean" he started before catching himself and blushing. "Not to say I wouldn't want to be your boyfriend... I'd like that as well... obviously" he continued, tripping over his own words as that somewhat cool demeanour he'd had crumbled within seconds.

"Guess it's my turn to make a fool of myself"

The jungle rustled softly before parting, vines slipping loose and branches bending as Dezorath emerged from the treeline. Mud clung to the bottoms of his armored boots, and small flecks of moss clung to the edges of his armored shoulders. His presence was hard to miss, a wall of muscle and armor walking with steady, purposeful steps.

He had heard voices. Laughter, maybe. Something softer than the usual tone of Jedi talk during a mission. Pausing when he saw them, Kaelos and Vera, standing close, too close. Their body language wasn't combat-ready or mission-focused. It was... something else. Something quieter. More fragile. But still strong in a way he couldn't quite name.

Dezorath's brow furrowed slightly. His head tilted as he studied them. A kind of warmth passed between the two Padawans—genuine and bright. But to him, it looked out of place. Strange.

He didn't speak right away.

Then, his deep voice broke the moment like a rock through still water. "Am I interrupting something?" he asked, his tone even, but edged with honest curiosity. His gaze shifted between them. Not judging. Just... confused. He stepped forward fully into the clearing, towering above them, wiping a smear of jungle grime from his gauntlet without breaking eye contact. The vines clung to the curve of his back like the jungle didn't quite want to let go of him.

Still watching. Still trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

Tags: Kaelos Vryn Vera Noble

 

[Sienna]

"Been walking around out here looking for any stragglers from the gang that's set-up in the temple, yeah. Scare them off or get them to surrender, you know how it is."

Tel seemed to scan the jungle. Sienna could sense several more life out there, though it blurred with the rest of the wildlife. Trying to identify any one presence felt trying to find a specific pebble buried in a sand dune. With Tel, at least, her only lucky break had been that he was also a Jedi, which made his presence significantly easier to pick out in the Force.

Sienna noted he was sizing her up, likely making a judgement on how capable she would be in a fight. His assessment implied he'd sensed someone, or a group of someones, up ahead. Likely hostile.

"No lightsaber, either? Care to look with me...?"

"Sienna of Heliod. You may call me Sienna. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jedi Ahren," she nodded to him.

"I have yet to construct a lightsaber," she continued a little more quiet. When she'd joined the Order she'd assumed a lightsaber would be given to her immediately. Instead she'd been given sticks and glorified stun batons to train the fundamentals of combat. Fundamentals she'd long mastered.

In lieu of an answer to his invitation, Sienna kicked off some leaves from her boots and started through underbrush in the rough direction she'd seen Tel stare into most intently. As she did, she motioned to the lightsaber at Tel's side. That it wasn't a real lightsaber and yet he still carried it instead of actual weaponry intrigued her.

"Do you carry a fake saber for the intimidation factor, then? The idea is sound, in principle, I must give you that, but aren't you a little...exposed that way?"

Tel Ahren

 

[Tel Ahren]

Sienna

"Well, it's better than nothing, you know?" came Tel's reply, the verbal equivalent of a shrug. "I'm not really any good with a blaster, I've got a small vibroblade if I need it, but this can block blasters as well as the real thing if I need it, and like you said, the intimidation factor is there." It wasn't like he didn't have some other advantages up his sleeve, either, though he wasn't really going to start going into all of those.

It was one thing if he was talking to somebody that already knew, but when he wasn't sure if they already knew or not, he found that revealing the whole 'I'm an Anzati' thing was a good way to get them not to trust him. Especially if they were alone.

Say, alone, and out in the middle of a possibly-hostile jungle.

"But, that's why I'm out doing this, anyways. Running into the big group of them inside the temple, they'd have safety in numbers and they'd know it. They wouldn't think twice about trying to gun me down. Running into, say, three or four of them out here? Just seeing a confident-looking Jedi with a lightsaber is usually enough to get them scared so that they either run away or surrender. Form Zero, you could say."

He looked away, pointing down what looked like an old game trail cutting through the brush. "Think I sense some down that way, no more than two or three. Want to go take a look, Sienna?"

Hopefully she wouldn't bristle hearing how he wasn't nearly as formal as she was.

 

[Jobbi Chantin]

Objective 3 - A Buyer's Market (Merchants, Entrepreneurs, Investors) ​

Pet (hair): Fuzzy (Sha'rellian toop)

Jobbi was sent to the marketplace because of something involving the alliance and her Dad, but she forgot what. She was supposed to do some business thing but she didn't know what that actually meant.

Just people did business and then made credits.

She waited at least five minutes before realizing she was never going to remember what meeting was set up.

She wandered off to find a plushie merchant, hoping to expand her collection of pillowy Jawa stuffies.

@OPEN​

 

[Sienna]

Sienna was still getting used to the lack of formality between strangers beyond Thyrsus' gravity well. She only glanced at him when he failed to add the Jedi honorific, a little satisfied she hadn't frowned.

The trail Tel indicated led deeper into the jungle. Leaves were strewn on either side of a thin path of open dirt. Fresh marks dented the pathway. With the humidity, the leaves, and the busy jungle creatures, the prints must have been only a few hours old. If they were to find criminals, that would be the direction to go.

"These tracks are fresh. We'll definitely be trailing something going down that path," Sienna said.

She felt a small thrill at the prospect of facing down criminals. She had technically only been sent here to study the temple after it had been cleared out, but she felt much more useful actually helping in the process.

Starting down the path, she shrugged the rifle off her shoulder and into her hands. Tel's answer about the lightsaber had been...satisfactory enough. She'd trust he could handle himself in a fight, just as he seemed to trust she could.

"I propose that you take the lead. I can cover you better with the rifle, and you're more likely to survive up close against blaster fire," she continued. "Though I anticipate the sight of two Jedi should be enough to intimidate them into a surrender."

Her plan played to their individual strengths on this outing. While she could certainly hold her own in close quarters, a blaster rifle would be a more useful tool than her fists when it came down to facing armed opposition. And although Tel's role carried greater risk, his greater experience and choice of weaponry made him more suited for it. She noted that she assumed, admittedly, that he was her senior, but the fact that he had been given leave to wander the jungle while she had to...be more inventive about it seemed good evidence in favour of her assumption.

"Are you apprenticed to one of the Order's Knights, Jedi Ahren?" Admittedly, she felt a certain curiosity about that particular aspect of Jedi life.

It was another aspect that had thrown her off when she'd joined the Order. The Jedi who'd found her, she assumed, would have been the one to train her, but reality had turned out different. She was hoping to perhaps pry some answers from the other Jedi on what his experience had been like.

Tel Ahren

 

[Tel Ahren]

Sienna

Without any objections, they set off down the trail. He took the lead like she suggested, carrying the inactive training saber loosely in one hand. His other was ready to grab at his vibroblade at a moment's notice if it should actually prove necessary, whether for dealing with any assailants or if they had to actually cut their way through the foliage. Sure enough, while the trail itself was well worn in, the tracks atop it were fresh. Boot prints seemed among the freshest, mixed in among the tracks of the native wildlife. Assuming none of the other Jedi had made it this way without his notice, that meant that they would, indeed, be on the trail of some of the gang that had squatted in the temple.

Something about the tracks seemed a little off, though. Deeper and wider spread than seemed reasonable for someone of that shoe size—it was smaller even than his own. Unless they just had abnormally small feet for their size, maybe they were running...?

"Hmm? Oh, that...it's a little complicated, I think." Discounting the ghost of Jo'Han Felcado that liked to chat with him, there was Anthony Gray Sun who he'd made acquaintance with, but things seemed a little too soon for him to start really naming himself that Jedi's apprentice as of yet. Maybe it was just in his head. Maybe Anthony didn't have any such reservations, he didn't know. All the other Knights and Masters he'd met he knew already had their own apprentices. But even then, like so many of the other Padawans, whether he had a master or not he still was given leave to conduct quite a bit of independent action, or to travel with other Knights and Masters if they offered. It didn't seem quite like the classical arrangement he'd read about.

"What about you? Any master, or just kinda going with the flow—"

He stopped abruptly, aware of Sienna almost running into his back as he did so. He glanced around, confused at just what had triggered his reflexes so suddenly, when a large branch from a rotten, dead tree landed heavily in the path another few steps ahead. He breathed a small sigh of relief. "Good thing we weren't under that, huh?" he joked, with a small grin over his shoulder. "Makes me wonder if something like that got to the ones we're tracking down now, I can still sense some others up ahead, but it doesn't seem like they've been moving at all since I first noticed them..."

 

[Zephon Lazkarion]

Tags: OPEN

The canopy parted like a living curtain as the shuttle descended through the humid skies of Eedit. Dense, tangled forests stretched to every horizon, green upon green, ancient and untamed. Through the mists that hung low over the treetops, the worn spires of the old Jedi Temple emerged at last, jutting like forgotten bones from the earth. Cracked stone, overgrown pathways, and the faint glimmer of long-dormant lights greeted the eye. The place still breathed, but its breath was shallow and labored.

Zephon Lazkarion stood at the threshold of the boarding ramp, his cloak stirred by the downdraft, his gaze fixed on the ruins ahead.

The Force here was... uneasy.

There was no single darkness, no overt malevolence, but disruption, layered like sediment. The presence of outlaws had tilted the balance, but it was the wilderness beyond the walls that troubled him more. The Quarra creatures, half-myth, half-nature, known for their aggression and uncanny intelligence, had claimed the forests during the Temple's long silence. And now, like a scar being reopened, the Temple had drawn both the hunted and the hunting.

Zephon stepped down onto the moss-covered stone. The heat of the jungle pressed in immediately, thick, cloying. He inhaled through his nose, slow and purposeful. Life was everywhere, but it moved in patterns that felt… wrong. Disjointed. As if two songs were being played in different keys over the same melody.

He reached to his belt, resting a gloved hand on the hilt of his saber, but did not draw it. Not yet.

"The Temple will not give itself back freely," he said to himself



There would be no single solution here. No clean confrontation. Some of the criminals might yet listen. Others would not. And the Quarra… the Quarra did not reason. He turned toward the steps that once welcomed pilgrims and learners alike, now defaced by time and desperation.

In his mind, he spoke a simple phrase: May the threshold be respected once more.

And then he climbed.

 

[Drystan Creed]

DEVARON

"Pack hunters, you say? Maybe we can use that to our advantage—make this op nice and clean."

Drystan tilted his head, examining the tracks Reina had pointed out as he crouched along the trail.

"Not a bad find," he murmured, pressing the pad of his index finger against a small droplet of blood. Still fresh.

"They might be closer than we thought."

He glanced toward the trees before leaping into them, landing silently atop a branch as he crouched, peering down at Reina.

"Let's keep it quiet. I've already borrowed a few things to mask my scent. You should do the same, if you haven't already. Use the Force to mask your presence if you'd like."

Drystan had been relying solely on traditional techniques and his own physical skill to navigate the jungle. He could use the Force, of course—but he rarely did unless absolutely necessary. It was a principle of his: use it only when needed, and nothing less.

He moved effortlessly through the canopy. To him, the branches, vines, and thick foliage were no different than the rooftop terrain of Coruscant's skyline—just another vertical playground for a hunter in pursuit.

Reina Daival

 

[Lyrrin]

Tags: Judah Lesan

---

Lyrrin had been on the trail of this seemingly abandoned temple for a few days. Had he been in the direct line of 'need to know' maybe it would've gone smoother. As the Farghul had moved onwards towards where he believed the temple to be he had spotted a group of individuals moving through the jungle.

While some of them looked like drifters one of the men was very clearly a Force user. The robes were pretty telling after all. With the knowledge that the New Jedi Order moved close with the Galactic Alliance one could only assume that this was a Jedi of the NJO. Lyrrin scrunched up his nose "Kriff that." he whispered to himself as if he had smelled something disgusting. If Jedi were here then the chances for him to grab a few nifty relics were slim.

The gears in Lyrrin's minds churned slowly as he attempted to devise a plan. Obviously he'd need to interact with the Jedi and his minions, even with all of Lyrrin's ability to lurk about it was only a matter of time before one of those supernatural shivers went up the Jedi's spine. Perhaps he could convince the man that he was working for the Alliance in an official capacity?

As the group approached the temple, Lyrrin, made his presence known several dozen feet behind them emerging from the jungle with a hand raised in greeting. He wore a green cloak around his body with the hood up "Hello! Oh golly gosh am I glad to have bumped into you all. Say, you wouldn't happen to be the Jedi sent here to look into the temple would you?" Lyrrin motioned towards a satchel under his cloak "Galactic Archaeological Survey - GAS for short if you're an acronym kind of guy." he grinned toothily "Name is uhm... Kahlil, Kahlil Pryce."

 

[Corin Trenor]

OPEN

In the complete absence of it once, Corin seemed to have all the patience in the world now. Nestled somewhere high, somewhere a thick branch protruded from the trunk of a canopy tree. The bait was set, he only needed to wait now.

Hunting came easy now, whether it was a Muunyak for the sake of survival on Jelucan, or culling a maddened Whelmer on Rothana.

With eyes closed, Corin focused on spreading his senses even further. Even if he could not see them yet, he could feel a pack of Quarra coming this way.

 

[Livia Rehn]

"Woe to the vanquished."

Tags - Gress D'ran , Koyi Freetaa



The jungle here breathed in a rhythm.

A low, living hum ran beneath the thick canopy. It vibrated through the ground, up through the soles of Livia's boots, like the heartbeat of something ancient. From her vantage point—half-shadowed beneath the eaves of a camouflaged transport frame parked on a low ridge—she could see the war games unfold below, the beginning gestures of pride and legacy dressed up in military ceremony.

A Devaronian tradition, a show of force.
But she saw the angles that others didn't.

Livia Rehn stood apart from her squad, helmet clipped to her belt, her eyes unreadable beneath the brim of a patrol cap that did little to soften the sharp lines of her face. There was a stillness to her—statuesque, hands folded loosely behind her back—but it wasn't the ease of a soldier at rest. No, her composure was too precise, her gaze too calculating.

She watched the arrival of Brigadier General Hux D'ran with mild interest, like one might watch the arrival of a predator on the edge of a known hunting ground. The man's horns glinted like polished obsidian in the midday sun, and his voice rolled like thunder over the ridgeline. She made note of how the air shifted the moment he began to speak—how soldiers instinctively straightened, how the glances exchanged between units on either side betrayed the silent ripple of hierarchy being reasserted.

And then came the reveal.

Gress D'ran. The son. A name already spoken in hushed tones around the battalion campfires by soldiers who had served long enough to see real battles, real deaths. Livia had never met the man, but his reputation was a composite built from eyewitness scraps, battlefield logs, and the strangely reverent tone of junior officers who respected him more than regulations required.

He was watching now. Eyes scanning the ragged company assembled across from his father's pristine ranks.

Livia allowed herself the faintest smile.

They'd brought them. The infamous lot from the Maclunkee Creek incident—less a company, more a gang of disciplinary citations wearing dog tags. It wasn't a surprise, not really. Devaronian pride demanded a proving ground, and pride never liked fair fights.

And there—stepping forward in defiance of that narrative—was Acting Captain Koyi Freetaa. Barely promoted, evidently unshaken. Livia watched as the Twi'lek's voice cracked over the gathered misfits like a whip, the snap of boots echoing in perfect unison, as sharp as any elite company's formation. There was pride there. Not arrogance. Something harder. Earned. Refined in the fire of almost losing everything.

"May the best unit win, Colonel."

Livia's gaze flicked to the Colonel then. She studied him—not the way one soldier might study another, but the way a chess player studies the position of a key piece on the board. There was power in Gress D'ran, no doubt. But power in the shadow of another man's legend. That came with cracks. She would remember that.

The woman didn't speak.

She never did unless she had to.

Instead, she let her silence hang like a blade in the air beside her squadmates, letting them fill it with nervous commentary or studied boredom. Her team had grown used to her quiet. They knew her presence as a constant: the soldier who watched everything, spoke rarely, and moved like someone who had already rehearsed her steps a hundred times before the mission even began.

She reached up, brushing the edge of a knuckle along a tiny scar on the right vambrace of her armor. A habitual motion. Unthinking.

It had once belonged to someone else.

Her eyes returned to the field below. Officers barked orders, local Devaronian walkers hissed steam into the humid jungle air, and scouts began to fan out like insects over the rugged terrain. It was more theater than war—until it wasn't.

These games had rules. But Livia had learned that rules were simply the lines people drew to make chaos feel safer.

The jungle did not care for rules.

And neither did the ambitious.

"Think they'll let us in the ring before it's over?" one of her squadmates asked, nudging her side with the butt of his rifle.

"Doubtful," Livia murmured, her voice low, clipped, like it had traveled far before it reached her. "But we'll see the aftermath."

"Shame," the trooper muttered. "Looks like a good fight."

Livia offered no reply. Instead, she watched as the Devaronian walkers began their slow crawl forward, like old gods awakened for a tribal rite.

If this was about honor, family, and national pride—then her presence here was an anomaly. Livia Rehn had no family. No roots. No flag, save the one she was given. Her past was an echo, and even that was fading.

But she knew war.
And more importantly—she knew people.

This, she thought, is how empires shift.

Not with declarations or treaties, but in the silent moments before violence becomes legacy. In the games that reveal too much. In the fathers trying to build immortality through their sons. In the misfit commanders who refuse to play the part they were assigned.

A soft breeze shifted through the jungle trees, carrying with it the scent of pollen, ozone, and churned-up soil. Somewhere in the distance, a shrill avian cry broke through the tension, then fell silent.

The jungle held its breath.

So did she.

She was Private Livia Rehn.

And today, she watched the board move.