Dominion Starbird | GA Dominion of Coruscant

Cuyan'ika Rook · May 11, 2020

Location: Outlander Club
Task: Objective One - Party

Open Interactions
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Democracy. It was an odd term to the Mandalorian. It was as foreign as the concepts of the Resol'nare would be to most who were born outside of the Clans. This did not mean that it was something he didn't understand. He got the general concept that it was a form of state organization where the collective people would place individual votes for those that the assumed would be best suited to lead the people. This sometimes was coupled with a separation of powers into several branches of government, and that even further could be subdivided between several persons in order to spread the power balance out as far of an area as he could. Democracy. It was a far cry from what he had grown up with, and it was an even further cry from the type of stories that he had been brought up with. The leader of his people, at least, when the Mand'alor used to be the leader of his people, they only needed popular support. It was hardly formal, they simply had to display acts that would be worthy of the Mandalorian people for them to follow, and through that, they naturally were granted the title of Mand'alor. It seemed like a simple idea, and a simple process. Along with that, the idea that the Sith Emperor was eternal, complete, and absolute was another bearing concept that he held from the day he was born. There was never a thought that there could be any form of alternative, it was the life he had known, it was the only life he thought he would ever be afforded. Despite that, here he sat, in a bar exploding with cheer and glee as a new banner flies over the many dozens of hundreds of buildings across Coruscant.

Democracy. It's a sound concept. It's something far different from the imperialism he had grown with, something far from the rule of fear and dictatorship of the masses that was accustomed in the Sith Empire and the holdings of Clan Rook. Instead these people were happy for the simple fact that it existed, he watched as smiles crossed the faces of random patrons, as they hugged complete strangers and shouted out cheers in dozens of languages, in hundreds of dialects, as a single note beat through each of their hearts. It was the return of something that the Core Worlds had been with without for some time.

He wasn't ignorant to Galactic history since his landing here, he was simply slow to catch up. The Galactic Empire, it's various successors, cults, and even home grown despots were known in the region. It was a long, drawn out period in Core World history where the rights that were assigned to them from the birth of the Ancient Republic were ripped away. He couldn't even begin to fathom how many decades upon decades it had been since they had been able to actually carry out these traditions. He could hardly fathom it as well as he could the concept of democracy to begin with. There were parts that didn't click right, it was something that in one had came off as utterly Utopian, and on another, utterly nonsensical. Deep inside, his heart told him it shouldn't work, but ever since his arrival to GA space, it had. Perfectly.

The Galaxy had lied to him.

Sighing, he looked away from the hoards of endless unknowns in the bar, turning his attention back to the drink he had ordered. Some blue substance, vicious, and bubbly. He couldn't even begin to pronounce what it was. He reached up, tapping the slit directly above the re-breather of his helmet, and waited a moment. A mechanical wirring later, a metal tube had produced from his helmet. Leaning forward, he dipped it into the glass.

Surprisingly sweet, though a harsh burn. Something about the flavors didn't blend too well, but he wasn't in a state to complain. He didn't have many credits to spare.

Quinvee Dogen · May 11, 2020

Objective: WOOOOOOOO
Interacting With:

Nora Lithos

Quin clinked beers with his new companion, being sure to hold the mug gingerly in his hands. How many of these had he had tonight? He couldn't remember. Back when he was younger, especially when he was playing for the Corellian Juggernauts, he could put back multiple kegs on his own. Now though? Well, he hadn't even finished a single keg's worth of booze and he was still feeling the world move beneath him. He patted the thigh of his new friend and grinned up at her.

"Anytime friend! The name's Quin," he shouted over the roar of the crowd. Being so freakishly tall he could see over most crowds and what that sight was giving him had quickly put a damper on his spirits. He sucked his teeth and pointed off into the distance. It wasn't hard to see what he was pointing at. It seemed that Imperials traveled in packs. Quin spat on the ground in distaste, the glob landing on an unsuspecting victim of Quuag descent. It splattered on his pristine white exoskeleton suit. It looked up at Quin with the big blue photoreceptors that resembled the species' actual eye size and waggled a tiny three-fingered fist at the man before storming off with a slew of curses in its native tongue.

Quin missed all of this.

"Damn Imps don't deserve to be here today," he said, loud enough for her to hear. "Especially Ex-Sith Empire. Why did Tagge even invite them here?" The rocket fuel blood in running in his Corellian veins was starting to run hot as he thought of his new Alliance working with them.

Placeholder 0128 · May 11, 2020

Speaking privately with Ryv

It was over. Done. Finished.

Bitterness drove the Dark Man from his exile, and bitterness was all that awaited him at his destination. The cowl hung heavy over his face as he wandered through the crowds, his presence within the empyrean muddled by a mask of disdain and false intention. It was a far cry from the aura of pleasantness he'd sought to cultivate in the past, but that no longer served him. It was time to step aside and take his place in the dark corners of the galaxy. The world could think him dead for all he cared.

As the exile stared up at the senate building, he felt that bitterness burn away to outright resentment. A life's work undone by a handful of revolutionaries with closed minds and imperialistic aims, and a betrayal of the highest order from those closest. He'd questioned where to place the blame, and no solid conclusion had come: only that constant, overbearing, and clogging cloud of vile emotion that had nearly severed his connection the living force.

But he'd found it again. The constant companion. The only one worth putting any faith in.

Well, all save for one.

The man that had been Cedric Grayson stood on the precipice, but there was one final act required of him before he could return to his new path, and take that long plunge into the unknown. Someone to be accountable to, to at least try to explain himself so that he might be understood before he was wholly beyond understanding. He needed that.

"Ryv." The Dark Man murmured, just loud enough that

Ryv might hear as he drew up alongside his student. His voice was a hoarse thing, partly ruined from the snowstorm on Odessen, and contained a barely withheld anguish that could be picked up on easily enough. "What's weighing on you?"

Ryv · May 11, 2020

Whatever sense of peace Ryv carved out of the crowded square shattered the moment Cedric's voice sounded beside him. Ryv's surprise, through genuine, slipped away rather quickly. The force had a funny way of doing things. It only made sense in the chaos of such an event Cedric would return, likely when the kiffar needed him most. He turned to face the larger Jedi, peering through the veil of intent and fallacies crafted around the once-prominent beacon of hope. Though difficult, such a task was far from impossible for the young empath. While Cedric or Wyatt seemed to be the perfect warriors, showcasing talents that excelled in combat, Ryv's ability to feel others around him was simply uncanny. And with it, the smaller Jedi found the familiar warmth within his once-master, even if cold darkness worked to snuff it out once and for all.

Ryv wanted to greet the older Jedi in some manner, but it just didn't feel right. Cedric had some purpose in approaching his apprentice. The kiffar sought an answer within the shrouded man's stance and visage, instead, Ryv found emotions befitting one fallen from the graces of all that is good and right. He opened his mouth to speak, searching for something to say about it all, only for silence to remain between them a tad longer. What was there to say? What difference would it make? In some way or another, great darkness befell both men, challenging them in ways neither were ready to meet. Did Ryv look the same as his shadowy master? When the kiffar's companions met his eyes, did they see the same pain and frustration etched within his amber gaze?

"That's a hard question to answer," Ryv finally answered, deciding on a simple truth. "Being a Jedi has always been my dream. Do right by my old man, help the folks across the galaxy, and be someone for others to look up to. I think I'm doing fine, but- it's just, every good thing I do blows up in my face. My friends are happy, people are safe, but here I am. I can't sleep without waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and screaming for something or someone. Everything and everyone I see, coated in the blood of the people I couldn't save, Cedric," he paused, looking down at the blood-covered hands-only Ryv could perceive. "What's the point of all this? No matter what I do, I let someone down. I fail time and time again. Everyone thinks I'm some fucking hero. I'm not a hero, man; I'm a goddamn failure."

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Allyson Locke · May 11, 2020

Objective: To party (1)
Location: Ordering a Corellian Whiskey - of course.
Wearing: Dress

Coruscant had been a place of healing and recovery for the Corellian. She had gone off-world for extra care, but most of her treatment had been by the loving care of the Jedi Healers and Medics on Coruscant. It still boggled her mind how quickly the planet had healed from its ordeal with the Sith. At times her mind always wandered, and she felt suffocated by the warship that plummeted through the ceiling of the old Jedi temple. It was hard being in the temple at times, especially with her mind raw from trying to survive her suicidal attempt at killing her target. She hadn't expected it, but Ryv's words stirred something inside of her. He reminded her that everyone coming home was just as important as your partner coming back. Of course, she would never let him know how his words clung to her. Maybe that was Corellian pride.

Tonight for once in her life, she shelved the First Class Corellian Bloodstripes, she left her dress uniform in its dress bag, and she tonight decided to dress to impress. Fabric wove around her frame as she entered the area, examining everyone that had arrived. She recognized a few people, mostly Loske and Maynard, who she saw had decided to become an item. Tilting her head, she raised an eyebrow remembering her interaction with Saber One. It seems I was right; he did have a girlfriend. The familiarity with another flyboy in her life played out far too perfectly. Allyson continued to move through the room, looking for the dearest of old friends, the bartender. A glass of Corellian whiskey was always there, perfection. She passed and had quickly noticed the Jedi Knight, whom her thoughts were on as she prepared for the evening. Though before she could make her way towards him, a man a little older than herself intercepted the Jedi. "Hmm, tonight's not my night, it seems." She pivoted, and the sequenced material moved wit her, hanging at her hips and revealing the curve of her slender back.

"Corellian, top-shelf neat." The bartender smiled and nodded. "Haven't seen you around in awhile Commander, you seem to be doing well." Allyson nodded in response and complimented the man. "Looking good yourself, Shawn. I'm glad to have you slinging the drinks tonight. You and I might be best friends by now." She got a hearty chuckle from the older man, and he set down her drink. "Maybe one day you'll say yes to letting me take you out." Giving the man a wink, she smirked. "When the whiskey runs dry, maybe Shawn, maybe."

She took a sip as the man rejected her credits. "This one's on me, Lucky - its good to have you around again." That old callsign seems the Rogues were still with her. She leaned against the bartop and watched Ryv, he seemed bothered by something, and there was an urge to speak to him - maybe he would listen or something. Shaking her head, she pulled her eyes away from him; the last thing she needed was for him to notice her staring. The Corellian forced her vision into her cup as she thought quietly, her mind wandered again, wondering if Wyatt was going to show up. A small smile spread across her lips as she brought the glass up to hide it, she wondered if the man was going to be able to pull himself away from the work he liked to smother himself in.

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Placeholder 0128 · May 11, 2020

Silence was the reply the boy received as the Essonian processed his apprentice's words. He'd not intended to return for months, perhaps even years, but events on Odessen had changed his plans. Finding the right words to say to the closest thing he had to a son weren't in them. It broke the facade, and for a moment, Cedric spoke freely.

"It was mine too," Cedric cracked a thin smile. Ryv was so much like him, and he'd never noticed. The boy had the same drive, the same will to serve, and to Cedric's horror, the same demons. Perhaps this was a final blessing from the Ashla. A gift before the long walk, that he might sway his last student from being plagued by the same specters that had haunted him.

"Ryv," he paused, struggling for the words, "I...these things that we do, we do them because we love our people. True, unconditional love, a love that will lead us to sacrifice anything; even our very lives to protect them if we must. That love is why it haunts us when we fail. It's why their faces haunt you in the dark, and why their screams haunt you in your dreams. To love is to suffer, and to suffer for another is the noblest thing any man can ever do." It probably sounded stupid coming from him, but the words felt right anyway.

"You are so like me as to be my son, so take head of my words. Do not destroy yourself for others. Sometimes, you have to take care of yourself first. Find what makes you happy. Find what makes you fulfilled, a calling beyond conflict, a woman that loves you. Accept that you are a human, and that even as a Jedi Knight, you have limitations. Accept that you cannot save everyone, and be grateful to the Ashla for those that you could. This is a fallen world we live in Ryv, it is damned, and we can only do what we can to make it better."

A pause.

"You will fail, my padawan. That is all that life is: a string of failures, benchmarked by the successes. You have to accept and understand that by failing, you learn, and learning is the key to succeeding in everything you do."

Cedric's gaze shifted away from Ryv to stare at one of the banners nearby. He did well to hide the glistening of his eyes, but the emotion heavy in his tone was more difficult to hide. "You are the farthest thing from a failure Ryv." Cedric sighed waveringly as he turned his gaze back to the boy, "You are my greatest student, and your training is my proudest accomplishment in my career as a Jedi Knight. I tell you these things because I don't want you to repeat my mistakes; duty alone can't be your life, because it isn't a life at all."

Ryv

Irveric Tavlar · May 11, 2020

// IMPERATOR //
// OBJECTIVE // Decompress
// FOCUS // --

The calm before the storm. It was environments like this that ever Irveric stopped endearing himself to anyone else. The very base level of his nature had always reviled these sorts of gathering. Ever eager to isolate in his own thoughts the coming war only drew a dark cloud over his internal monologue. Each and ever other feeling staggered with the screams of innocents, the grotesque burnt husks of the slain enveloped in flames. The closer the dawn of the war seemed to approach, more and more his brain was wracked with these visions of death and agony. Even for a man who'd long avoided mortal vice in favor of his suicidal crusade brought on by the horrid trauma from Mandalore.

Though everyone around him anticipated the coming war with careful words - Irveric only wished to be in the fray again. In the throes of conflict, these terrible screams would fall silent under gunfire. A reprieve, even if only so brief from a prison of isolation which saw Tavlar torture himself over and over from his past crimes. He couldn't keep living in that world, were he not the political figure he never asked to be he would've abstained from this event. However, in spite of its nature ; this was a duty all its own. Allies were present at the highest of highs and lowest of lows. Even as numbers, formations and plans were at the forefront of his consciousness, he tried a futile hand at easing the strain in revelry.

It'd been over two decades since Tavlar deviated from any form of martial uniform per his choice of attire. Luckily enough, the uparmored black uniform of red piping and accents he donned as Imperator would serve a viable enough ensemble here, even if it was impractical here it spelled well enough his nature and indirectly, the nature of the Order itself. Secluding himself enough from the masses at the corner of a corridor leading toward the main gathering he lifted a drink to his lips with his artificial limb before swallowing down the stinging burn of the liquor.

The Novatroopers which initially accompanied him to Coruscant out of sight but Tavlar but he was not out of sight from them. He hadn't any fear here but even still, it was difficult negotiation to allow the man wanted for death by an Empire with absolutely no restraints to roam freely and unguarded. Even still, in spite of his status he sought to hide. Luckily enough

Imperial Warlord Zovesa seemed to style herself as a far better face of the New Imperial Order. Where Tavlar's history was muddied, his nature a difficult one and his reputation polarizing, the Chiss offered a narrative most any could endear to.

In these wasted minutes, Irveric sought to populate his vision with errant people watching, hoping for a faint distraction from any thought of real importance.

Ryv · May 12, 2020

Cedric's words, though the first Ryv heard them spoken aloud, were far from a surprise. Many would look to the former Imperator with disdain as if his status as both an Imperial and a Jedi somehow could not co-exist. Within Cedric Grayson, the heart of a certified hero burned bright and pure. His fight against the Sith war-machine spanned far longer than many Jedi, who still served the force in earnest. He had seen more defeats than victories, yet, he stood up and fought on without fail. Whether the Galactic Alliance wanted to admit it or not, the Imperium was the beginning of all this. And at the helm of the Grayson Imperium? Cedric Grayson himself. Ryv didn't need to search his mentor any longer, for he knew the truth in his words. There was no mistaking the emotion behind the dark man's words. Cedric looked upon the struggling Jedi Knight as a son, and Ryv loved the wayward Jedi Master as he would a father.

Ryv had never been one to try and make sense of the force, as so many Jedi did. He always considered the cosmic power a source of energy, empowering his continued attempts at doing the right thing. Moments like these shook Ryv's simple beliefs to the core. For weeks he'd struggled to find peace in the wake of a coming war, failing at every turn. And at such a crucial moment, when the kiffar yearned for a sign, something to show him the way out of the encroaching darkness, it appeared within Cedric.

"Sacrifice," Ryv uttered the word, seemingly tasting each syllable as it left his lips. "Yeah, I guess that's what we do, huh," he crossed his arms over his chest, watching the crowds of people moving before them. None were the wiser to the horrors at work out in the galaxy now that peace finally found a home within the Core. That thought brought a smile to Ryv's lips, though it quickly vanished as he considered the word once more. In the face of great danger, the kiffar knew Cedric's words to be true. If a dark presence revealed itself in an attempt to destroy the innocents before them, both of the two troubled Jedi would throw themselves upon the crimson blade without hesitation. An unconditional love often left one side wanting, while the other side benefitted wholly.

'Duty alone can't be your life.'

Everything Ryv grew up to believe screamed out in disagreement, threatening to spill out of his skull and onto the grimy pavement below. The man who raised him, a Jedi Knight just like him, taught him the exact opposite of such a thing. Emotional maturity fell to the wayside, stifled by the elder Jedi's beliefs in a dated and strict code. The days Ryv and his father strolled through Coruscant were not for the benefit of their relationship or their health. Ryv met dozens, if not hundreds of people, and served them in any way he could. Nothing about the kiffar's upbringing supported Cedric's claim, yet, in Ryv's heart of hearts, he knew it to be true. Watching a woman, he'd come to love happy with another proved such a thing far before his former master shared his hard-earned wisdom.

"Thank you, Cedric," Ryv managed the three words well enough, keeping the wave of emotion at bay. "I think there is a long road before both of us, and it feels like those roads lead elsewhere, separated by something I can't quite see, but," he looked up to the scarred Jedi Master and stepped forward, wrapping his arms around him in a tight embrace. "I'll never forget what you've said to me today, Cedric."

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Loske Treicolt · May 12, 2020

Objective 1 - Wooo!
Coruscant // Galactic City // Senate District

Amea Virou //

Maynard Treicolt

By the time the pair left the unimpressive abode in the collective commerce district, there was a pile of clothes on the bed that hadn't been there before. After a few hours of Yon Akah (this time more than the one song on repeat for seventeen times, Loske'd never live that one down) and holo flicks of Coraline La'Toya playing in the background, Amea and Loske had deduced that the bits of wardrobe Lady Elane of Kuat had parted with by some weird token of gratitude were far too scandalous to be worn in public, lest they be deemed as coruscantily clad. Badum tscchh. Loske at least had opted for something else entirely, slightly more conservative than many of the Kuat originated pieces.

"If you don't take them for some sort of miscreant tomb raiding, I think I might burn half of them." The blonde reflected in strained fondness to some of the glitzy threads they'd parsed through earlier as they wove through the crowds en route to the medal ceremony. In the end, something less eye catching was elected for. Over the course of the past few months, Loske'd realized Amea wasn't Kaili, but that was okay. She didn't have to be. After that random terminus meeting and crossing through the field o blades cutting through the dead, things ended up levelling out. The painful parts were gone in their friendship and it could just be... normal-ish.

She squeezed past yet another person, slipping in a space between them and another, the excited babble making the evening even more aglow. Despite the obvious temporariness in the elation of the evening, there was a sense of pride in the work of their hands directly influencing the joviality of so many. The skies popped and exploded with beautiful colours, people cheered and rallied beneath a single banner in the hopes of a prosperous future and the promises of The Alliance. A few excuse me's were murmured while she drew the brunette by the hand to cut through the streets. Coruscant couldn't be empty on a bad day, but she'd never seen this many people outside. Everyone was moving, or doing something. It was like the entirety of the population were spilled out between the buildings, on rooftops, anywhere their voices could be carried into the wind and contribute to the unintelligible chorus of cheer.

Loske and Amea made their way through the crowds and yanked on the wrist of Maynard by the time the day was announced as Unity Day by the Chancellor and an eruptive chorus of joy broke out in synchronized jubilance once more. The crowds were basically suction cups for anyone not milling about, she she practically had to pop forward from between two stalwart Ithorians

The glee was infectious, and it was hard to suffocate the grin that permeated from ear to ear when she timed her greeting. The last time the trio of them had been together, it was on Caamas and in much different circumstances on so many levels. "Hey," she greeted while the eruption continued around them and she looped that grip on his wrist into his hand and a lean up to kiss his cheek. "You remember Amea." Hard to forget, it was more a statement than anything.

It was hard to hear with all the celebrations and libations about, and she glanced through the faces decorated with smiles. A very distinct and familiar presence was nearer than it had been in almost a year. Her brows furrowed, a flood of emotions, all over the spectrum, started from her cranium down to her toes and centred in her chest. Both Cedric and Ryv were concealed from their current location in the crowd, but that ethereal tether had never gone away. A bittersweet reunion was probably to come, and certainly interesting timing, given the unification efforts and the confetti that twisted from the skies that were not for The Imperium -- only a fraction of the dream. She was suddenly very relieved to have her drinking buddy nearby to normalize her upcoming request.

Allyson Locke · May 12, 2020

FInishing her whiskey, she placed the glass down carefully and stared at the rim. She always felt so awkward in places like this. She was a fighter and a girl who grew up on the battlefield. At times Allyson found herself wondering if things would have been different if she would have stayed home. The time had come for her to start etiquette school after classes in preparation for her to enter into the family's socialite community. The Corellian's family was considered elite, and a world was open for her to grasp, to take, and make the world of Corellian ships her own. It wasn't enough, though she wanted more. Thrills of space travel, working on a half working hauler, there was something that drew Allyson into its world and wrapped her, making her feel whole.

Eyes stared at the empty glass, twirling it as she continued to wonder about her life if she had never run away. The moment she stepped on Ember Rekali's ship, she had sealed her fate to what it was today. Remembering her fondness of the old man made her smile; after all the negativity, Allyson was grateful for her choices. Still, she mourned the time she didn't have with her family, Allyson mourned their loss and wished she could have saved them. Yet, she was thankful she had not perished with them in the disaster that fell upon Corellia. The sound of the glass tapped the countertop as she exhaled deeply and brushed back her hair from her face. With her liquid courage vibing with her Corellian pride, nothing was stopping her. Looking over towards Ryv, she was tired of waiting for someone to walk up to her. Like she always had, she took fate by the horns and walked toward the two men.

They were hugging, and she wondered if she was running a moment or just sliding into the end of one. Either way, she waited, and when the men finished speaking, she smiled warmly towards the Jedi Knight that she knew. "Hello, Ryv." Her voice hung slightly on his name, and she enjoyed saying it because he was someone she enjoyed seeing. Remembering her manners, she turned towards Cedric and offered a hand. "I'm Allyson Locke, a pleasure to meet you - I'm sorry for interrupting if I am."

She gave herself a mental pat on the back for not being a military stiff and tack on her rank title - never seemed to go well for her when she did. As she said her introduction, her eyes failed her and returned to Ryv, trying her best to read his mood, hoping deep down that he'd be at least a little bit happy to see her.

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Nora Lithos · May 12, 2020

Quinvee Dogen

Quin! What a great name. Nora glanced down at the crashing cups before she raised it and downed a hearty piece of it. This whole thing did end up reminding her of Monastery. One wouldn’t expect a place of healing to have big, massive parties like this but it was the truth. If anything, Nora more often than not found that it was the doctors she had come across that knew how to party the hardest, and feel the least of it all the day after.

And although she wanted to keep drowning herself in the good memories, Quin made his feelings known about the Imperial which in so many way was just, like, a total mood killer, dude. Her teeth bared in a grimace as she mouthed a quiet ‘sorry’ to the spat-upon Quaag.

“Come now, friend.” Nora said and beamed another smile. “This is a day of celebration to the future and not the past.”

“Time will come, tomorrow or in a week after that, when we get to think about these things.” Her glance spread out across the crowds from her massively superior tactical vantage point. “In the meanwhile…” She lowered herself down to speak into Quin’s ear. “There’s a whole set of games over in that corner over there, and I am pretty sure I am the Sacred Lotus’ as-of-yet undefeated game master.”

She sat up straight again and let her foot nudge ever so gently against the man’s chest and/or shoulder. “Not saying I could beat you, just saying that you wouldn’t stand a chance if you tried to best me.”

Gala Geert · May 12, 2020

Coruscant // Galactic City // Senate District
Objective 1 - Wooo! Get

Arage Bao crunk

Imperial Warlord Zovesa //

Jekadius Lawson // Cai-Lan Raeth

"Hey.." The mirialan enunciated, leaning forward over the barrier and reaching out with a tug toward the sleeve of the woman in white. Her tone was obviously perturbed, if not a bit slurred "I asked.." and then she hoisted herself over the barrier and to the side of the white-haired woman she'd met on Tython, under much less jovial circumstances.

"If that's," her eyes darted from feet to the pointedness of the woman's nose "..your party outfit."

Eyes flicked from assessing the Imperial, to assessing another with gem-coloured skin and a golden jaw. Impressive mandible on the woman who appeared with a collection of armoured folks. Definitely not a party outfit on the Chiss. She gave a leering glance in their direction, swaying slightly but pressing her arms against the railing behind her to stop her from moving involuntarily.

Why did nobody have a drink in their hand?

"You know what would make it more appropriate?

A drink."

Placeholder 0128 · May 12, 2020

editing (( coom ))

Placeholder 0128 · May 12, 2020

The reality of the things he was going to have to do rained on him with all the subtlety of falling bricks. He could play the role, revel in a final moment of goodness. He'd always been obsessed with legacy. His father had made quite a big deal of it, and his death had stirred a desire in Cedric to be the father that he'd lost. A war filled life coupled with a general lack of interest would see that legacy reduced to a rather final end once he died. Before the an act of sacrifice, he could allow himself an act of vanity.

"We'll meet again, I just have to take care of some things first." The embrace was a surprise. Cedric stiffly returned the hug, he was a little out of practice. "Keep the lightsaber. Only a Grayson should wield it, and I can't take it where I'm going." His brow furrowed as he drew away. If he was to follow the path properly, then he needed to do it alone. Ties to the past had to be left behind. Even still, for a fraction of a moment, he almost explained exactly where he was going.

The moment was fleeting, and the thought was quickly buried. He was already committed, it wouldn't make sense to stop now. A moment of weakness would make the sacrifices already made pointless, and he couldn't live with that, even if it would make things easier.

Perhaps a kernel of knowledge. Ryv deserved that much.

"Before I go, I must explain the Imperium, the true reason," his brow furrowed. "Most Jedi stand by the democratic system. I do as well, to a degree, but there is a coming apocalypse, and only strong leadership will see us survive. There is a reason the Bryn'adul and the Sith have slaughtered more people than most empires in galactic history: a reason why the galaxy is so out of balance. Reality and the empyrean are bleeding into one another, and the galaxy is coming apart at the seams. The only way to restore it is to wipe out our enemies, and sever the links between the Netherworld and this one. I needed control to close the Netherworld portals, and rally an army strong enough to halt the coming genocide."

Cedric shook his head, "My plans were hampered by my injuries, and then ruined by all this," he waved a hand around at the city, "And what remains of the war machine we forged? An unprepared republic led by an assembly that will play at politics as armageddon comes?" A heavy sigh fell from his lips. He felt exhausted. "You have to keep them prepared for the threat. If the politicians make moves that will shatter this alliance, you must force them toward the right course. It's the only way our people will survive."

That was around the time that

Allyson Locke came striding over. For once, Cedric wasn't paying much mind to his surroundings - the girl caught him well off guard. He quickly reigned in his rather impassioned words, giving the woman something of a blank stare for a handful of seconds, and then came the practiced smile of a politician.

"Just a surrogate dad passing through," he returned the handshake, "Lovely to meet you though, Miss Locke."

His attentions turned to Ryv. "Remember what I said about a woman?"

Amea Virou · May 12, 2020

Maynard Treicolt //

Loske Treicolt

It would be a bit of an understatement to say that Amea had preferred the relative quiet of the apartment as opposed to the overcrowded streets of Coruscant. The sound of Yon Akah and Coraline La’Toya was a pleasant sound as opposed to a cacophony of noise and voices in the streets of Coruscant. Loske knew that Amea avoided the Core. The burden of law and order didn’t sit well with her, but for the sake of her friend — and by extension friend of friend — Amea made some exceptions.

“Because I am definitely someone who is known to wear anything more than tank tops and jackets, right?” Amea deadpanned back at Loske’s suggestion that she would pick any of these clothing items up. The blonde Jedi was well-aware that this particular piece of Spacer Trash™ lived out of the items in her hand and bag by this point. It wasn’t a lifestyle that was meant for everyone, or so she had come to understand. People liked material goods, they liked being tied down into one place for ‘stability’ and in some ways perhaps Amea couldn’t blame them.

“Yeah, you remember me.” Amea nodded and gave the man a grin. “I mean, we’re not deep in—”

Amea raised her hands and quickly shook her head to ward off any attempts to push the topic further than she already had. “Actually, now is not the time for it. We should focus on the festivities.”

“It’s good to meet you again, Maynard.”

Dracken Pryce · May 12, 2020

Objective I: WOOOOOO

Coruscant // Galactic City // Senate District
Interacting With //

Cassius Callaesar

Zahara Myneto

Ava Cartwright-Pryce
Nearby //

Arage Bao

Imperial Warlord Zovesa

"You know I'm bad with names-" he started to say to Ava before he was aware of the High Admiral's approach. He unconsciously stood at attention when he realized the High Admiral was speaking to him. They'd 'met' at various tactical meetings and so he knew the face and his career, but he didn't know the man personally and so the casual nature of his conversation unbalanced Pryce. That's right, they shared the same rank now. It was hard to remember that when Cassius several years his senior. He relaxed and smiled, though there was a tinge of sadness in it. On average, the higher your rank in the Navy, the more time you got to spend in an office depending on the individual command style. Outside of war, most of the small-time work was handed down to lower-ranked admirals, commodores, and commanders. Individual systems didn't need the massive battlecruiser flagships of GA High Admirals and Admirals which meant theoretically he was free and clear to help raise his and Ava's child. But that was during peacetime, and Cassius was right...There were several campaigns that the 3rd would be taking part in alongside the other High Admiral's group.

"The Sith," he said in just above a whisper. But he knew Cassius wasn't here to put a damper on the mood. That's just how old military types were.

"Err, Thank you Admiral Callaesar. I would appreciate any wisdom you have for me in the future." Polite, but clipped with the soft accent of the Corellian working class. It almost sounded like a Wild Space accent but much more subdued. A stark contrast to the clipped and straightforward sounding voice of the Annaxi. It seemed as though the two Admirals were beginning to attract some attention though. "Did you catch the Lord Admiral's speech?" He asked. "I was only around for the tail end. She sure is something, keeping all those ships in line. If she weren't so...Imperial I'd-" But the two High Admirals were interrupted by a not unwelcome face, but one that had a penchant for trouble.

"Admiral Myneto," he said, forcing a smile, "Thank you." Was all night going to be him getting congratulations? He pondered the question for a moment, resting his chin in his free hand in a classic thinking position. "Of what world?" It wasn't unheard of for high ranking military to move into the world of politics, just as it wasn't unheard of for non-natives to become senators of the worlds they represented. His own Corellian senator was an example of just that. But...

"I think, right now we need you and your experience more in the coming battles than in the Senate chambers," he said lightheartedly before clapping the tall man on the back. Yikes, they were both just pretending Ava wasn't there. He felt terrible for leaving her out of the loop here. After all, she was Corellian Defense Force and he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to keep her out of the cockpit of a starfighter in the Alliance for long. "Admiral Myneto, Admiral Callaesar. This is my partner, Wing-Commander Ava Cartwright." He said her Corellian Defense Force rank with some emphasis to indicate that she was just as or nearly on par with the group as far as "social standing" went and that she was not just an accessory to be left out of the further conversation.

Ryv · May 12, 2020

Ryv hid his faint smile via the embrace, allowing himself an instant of selfishness before the duo broke the embrace. There were so many things the younger Jedi wanted to say to his mentor, but he couldn't find the words. As much as the thought of a goodbye, even a short one, hurt him, Ryv knew this moment was no longer his. Cedric needed to speak; he needed Ryv to know why and understand what the Imperium should have been in a brighter timeline. Ryv couldn't be sure how he felt concerning his master's sentiment on democracy. On the one hand, the kiffar had seen the slowgoing machine in action, failing to engage the more significant conflicts of the galaxy fully. On the other hand, what the Galactic Alliance already accomplished proved to many democracy could not only survive in this lawless galaxy but thrive.

"I understand, Cedric," Ryv nodded his head, his bare hand subconsciously falling to the Blade of Ruusan at his side. In such tense and emotional moments, the blade delivered powerful waves of calm to the typically anxious Jedi. "I can't say for sure they are going to listen to me, but I think these people do respect me. I've done a lot for em, so I'll do my best to make sure whatever happens, we can face it. No matter what," he reiterated while assuming the stalwart persona of a Jedi, one that found themselves duty-bound by something far greater than they were. "When the times comes, Cedric, I hope I'm still around to welcome you back."

With Allyson's sudden arrival, Ryv turned his attention from the more reserved Jedi Master to the Corellian. Ryv's eyes widened momentarily at the sight of the dress and the many favors it did for its wearer. He just as quickly regained his composure, offering her a warm smile of his own.

"Allyson, what's up? I'm glad to see you up and out of bed, though, a bit surprised outing number one ended up a festival," Ryv chuckled before eyeing Cedric at the surrogate father comment. While true to a letter, the idea of introducing himself in that manner brought another laugh from the recently sullen kiffar. His laugh abruptly ended at Cedric's question, Ryv's brows furrowing. "I do remember, yes" his gaze drifted to Allyson's the moment she looked his way.

"You aren't interrupting anything, Allyson. If anything, you probably chose the best time to join the conversation. How are you feeling? Back in tip-top?"

Allyson Locke | P Placeholder 0128

Emmen Tagge · May 12, 2020

Coruscant // Galactic City
Senate Plaza
Objective 1 - WOOOO!

The Chancellor shakes the hand of the iktochi Minister of Infrastructure as they depart the podium to cheer. People were delighted to hear that the administration had plans to focus on the levels of the ecumenopolis that had been neglected for decades. Despite the apparent glamour and images depicted in the propaganda of previous administrations, many levels of the planet were left in ruin from the occupation of the Imperial Bloc. With the Alliance pushing for more trade and a stronger economy, it was only natural that they'd seek to rebuild the Queen of the Core to its past stature.

Returning to the stand, he waits for the rowdy to calm before finally speaking up. "Before we move on with the rest of the festivities, there is one last thing that must be done. As we've marched toward this glorious milestone, we have been forced to overcome many great hurdles. There are heroes who cannot be here today -- who gave their lives so that we may be able to celebrate under this new banner."

Emmen's arm rises to gesture behind him, where two massive golden banners line the arching entryway into the renowned Senate Building. "Already, we have proven our resolve. It is this innate desire to persevere that has lead us here, together. This is our greatest strength; for no matter how many times we are beaten, broken or forced to obey, the Core always stands back up! We have never lost our way, for it is a part of us. That spark can never be quenched, for we are starbirds -- each and every one of us."

Reaching into the interior pocket of his traditional Tepasi blazer, he pulls out a folded piece of paper. "And while all of us have played a vital role in this success, there are those among us today who deserve to be recognized for their selflessness, heroics, and significant roles in forging this new nation. I will now call for these individuals to step forward and line up along the front of the stairway," he motions behind him to the grand stairway leading to the domed government building, where senators, officers and other significant representatives who had spoken were gathered.

"And will then welcome Vice Chair Starseeker and a guest speaker from the Jedi Order to take the stand," he unfolds the note, skimming the list briefly to ensure no one had been missed on the document. Satisfied, he continues, "I would like to call upon Leon Gallo, Jedi Knight; Cpt. Maynard Treicolt of Saber Squadron; Lt. Gideon Wraith of Sigma Squad; High Admiral Cassius Callaesar of the Anaxsi Battlefleet; and Gat Tambor, Senatorial Candidate for Skako."

As he claps, the Tepasi steps aside for Lisza Starseeker to take his place, eagerly searching the crowd for those he had announced.

Quinvee Dogen · May 12, 2020

She was right of course. He was letting the booze and his Corellian Pride get the better of him. Which she was using to her advantage all the same. She really didn't know who he was, which wasn't surprising once she mentioned the Sacred Lotus. He'd read a few articles about them, but only snippets. Force sects rarely had time for anything outside of completing their mission, whatever it was. Besides, even if she was a huge fan of Smashball he'd grown so much facial hair and gotten so many tattoos since those days that hardly anyone recognized him these days.

All the better, because if it came to games...He'd beat tiny frame any day of the week.

"You're on" he said, turning from the crowd and walking with purpose to the games. There were a couple of teens on it when they got there but they quickly fled in terror when the massive man stepped up to queue up behind them. He shrugged and set his mug down on a conveniently placed table.

"Order of the Sacred Lotus huh," he said trying to strike up a conversation again. He tapped her leg letting her know that her ride was over.

Nora Lithos

Raona Cadera · May 12, 2020

Lisza stepped forward and looked to Tagge with a small smile before reaching into her black dress and removing a datapad. She took a deep breath and thumbed it on, allowing the Force to calm her nerves. She was one with the Force and the Force was with her. She offered the crowd a wave before she began.

"When the Corellian Confederation split from the New Republic we did so out of concern for those around us, our friends in neighboring systems and family at home. Much like the Greyson Imperium, we sought to take hold of the Core's reins and keep it safe with strict policies and a focus on isolationism. But every day we walked into the Senate chambers on Corellia we entered with the goal of rebuilding the freedom and security we have today. With the joining of the High Republic and the Core Alliance we have the opportunity to reunite not just the Core Worlds, but rebuild it to become a shining beacon of hope, liberty, and equality." She paused.

"To the beings who keep us safe, including those of the Jedi Order, know that we will always be here for you. And to those who feel as if we have forgotten you, the light of the stars may appear as if it is no longer there but we are working tirelessly to make sure that light reaches you soon." The speech went on to lift the spirits of the people present and all those watching from home. She was careful not to mention war or upcoming conflicts but left the threat to all who were enemies of democracy tactfully present.

"And now I pass the torch to the future and the next generation of our people and the Jedi Order. Sword of the Jedi, Knight Ryv, I leave them to you." She stepped back with a smile and gestured for Ryv to take her place.

Ryv

Imperial Warlord Zovesa

Irveric Tavlar