Private Where Dragons Remember

[Mykel Dawson]

In the main view viewport of the freighter, the shimmering blue haze of hyperspace gave way to black depths of realspace. Bastion loomed ahead, stark against the void, its silhouette rising like a crown of iron from the haze of its atmosphere.

Not welcoming. Not hostile. Just... watching.

"Still hard to believe we made it through that," Mykel murmured, eyes narrowing at the sensor readouts behind the viewport.

Finley didn't glance over. His hands moved steadily across the controls, trimming course, adjusting power levels.

"It wasn't luck," his father said evenly. "The Force... and a steady hand." The Jedi Master had longed mastered the art of instinctive astrogation, allowing them to thread safe path through through now turbulent hyperspace. "You'll pick it up someday."

"Feels like everything's coming apart," Mykel said. "The lanes aren't just volatile. They're... unraveling."

Finley gave a quiet nod, eyes still on the nav data. "They are. That's why I've been working with BoSS. Some private companies too. We're developing a new initiative charting where the flows remain stable. Trying to stitch new patterns through the chaos."

"Didn't know you were doing all that."

"Well I can't let you have all the glory while you're away on your Jedi adventures," Finley joked, a smirk growing on his face. "Semi retirement has been fun with your mom - real fun - but I need to get out there and chip in to figuring this mess out."

The transmission panel pulsed again, waiting for Laphisto to answer.

"So what about this guy? An old acquaintance you bailed out, right?" Mykel asked.

"Yup you could say that." Finley agreed with a small nod. "Stumbled on him during my explorer days. I'm surprised I never told you about it before but the it happened so long ago. Well, we'll have plenty of time to catch up once we see him. Looks like he's done pretty well for himself. In some kind of leading position within this Diarchy."

Mykel nodded, quite impressed his dad knew such figures in high places. Not just Jedi, but people all over. He was committed to his current path, but he did feel a twinge of envy towards his father and his explorer days.

He was even more keen that ever to meet this Laphisto character.

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

The space above Bastion was anything but quiet. Stretching across the orbital plane like a mechanical constellation, hundreds of Orbital Defense Platforms loomed hulking sentinels standing vigil over the planet below. Each platform contributed to the intricate web of security that had turned Bastion into one of the most fortified worlds in the galaxy. From his vantage aboard Aurora Station., nestled in high orbit among these armored giants, Laphisto observed the controlled chaos of Bastion's defense grid with a practiced eye. The station itself functioned as both a command hub and rally point an essential piece in the Diarchy's military network.

He often found himself here when not engaged on some distant battlefield. If not tucked away in his personal office, he was walking the length of the CIC or the station's command bridge. Today, his steps were steady and purposeful, hands clasped neatly behind his back as he paced the bridge, the muted hum of consoles and comms filling the air. His lone ear twitched as a new transmission came through—an incoming vessel requesting clearance codes.

His eyes darted toward the starfield, tracking the source. The name in the transponder ID brought a flicker of recognition: Mykel Dawson . A Diarchy officer accepted the Comm request from thier Ship and began to follow protocol, preparing to issue landing clearance to the surface below. But Laphisto leaned in, reaching out to press a button on the console. The dock officer's voice cut out, replaced a moment later by the cool blue glow of a holographic image Laphisto himself, now projected aboard the approaching vessel.

He no longer wore the familiar Beskar'gam from his early days. Instead, his Armor was entirely new, marked by the sigils and design language of the Lilaste Order, "Finlay?" Laphisto tilted his head slightly, voice colored by mild confusion and faint amusement.A chuckle followed."I'll see you at Loading Dock Sixteen." And just like that, the transmission ended.

---

When the ship finally landed, Laphisto was already there waiting.He stood with a finger pointed sharply at a Massive Basilisk War droid heavily modified and towering, its chassis humming with restrained power. Despite its intimidating appearance, the droid looked almost sheepish, coiling downward and lowering its photoreceptors under his gaze as if it understood it was being scolded.

As the ramp descended, Finlay emerged alongside a younger man. Laphisto turned his head at the sound of their approach, clearing his throat and dismissing the droid with a wave. It sulked off slowly, casting backward glances as it stomped down the corridor. "If it isnt the Reason my scorn has been wraught against the galaxy," Laphisto said with a smirk, a half chuckle rolling from his throat arms folding across his chest."It's been... a while, to say the least." The low chuckle that followed was familiar warm, but touched by the weight of memory.

 

[Mykel Dawson]

While his father was busy with piloting and navigation, Mykel handled sensors and communication duty as his copilot, and let's just say the ocean of attack satellites and battle stations on his console made him pucker. Even the very space around Bastion was like a neigh impenetrable fortress. They had come here as friendly visitors in a nondescript civilian vessel and he still felt nervous. Just who had the gusto to try to invade this place with anything less than a sector fleet? Five sector fleets?? Pure insanity.

"It's fine," Finley said, sensing his son's unease. "As long as we play nice, then there's nothing to worry about. Besides, we're guests."

"Ha ha, guests, yeah," Mykel reported with a nervous chuckle.

Finally their hail was answered, Laphisto granting them docking clearance and directions.

"Alright, time to take this big bird in," Finley said with a grin. Despite the freighter's heft, he maneuver it with a certain ease that was more becoming of a fighter jockey. It wasn't to say that the freighter was juking like an A-wing, but when piloted by masterful hands it was certainly more nimble than could be expected.

Within minutes, they broke through the rust colored atmosphere to witness a wide array of structures and military emplacements dotting the surface. The sight cemented his opinion that any invasion was a suicide run.

---

As they landed upon the assigned dock and left to exit the freighter, Mykel wasn't sure he knew what to expect down the ramp, but it certainly wasn't a hulking winged horned man with a personal Basalisk war droid in tow. Neither of the Dawsons were small men, but they looked like younglings next to him in terms of height and build.

Even more surprising was the way he dismissed the battle droid as if was nothing more than a pet. Just who was this walking titan?

Finley moved with no such reservations, gleefully approaching Laphisto with a laugh. "Yes, the honor is all mine. It has been a while." He raised a hand to shake, then brough himself in for a half hug. Finley then looked around with a whistle before looking back up at his dragonic counterpart, still beaming. "I see you've done quite well for yourself. High Commander, eh?"

Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto gave a quiet chuckle, nodding lightly as he returned the familiar embrace. Pulling back, he looked down at Finley with a faint smile before folding his arms across his chest. But something was different. The usual glint in his eyes was gone—replaced by a deeper, almost haunted stillness. The cloudy edge of carbonite poisoning that had dulled his vision for the past twenty years was no longer there. In its place was something… changed. His gaze was clear now, sharp, but not quite whole. Even his presence in the Force had shifted. Where once it had radiated with certainty and power, now it felt battered, reshaped like a starship limping through space on damaged engines. Still holding together. Still flying. But barely.


"Well, after your Grandmaster decided not to use me as a weapon of war and instead granted me my freedomI carved out a little alcove in the Kalinda System. Spent the last twenty years building the Lilaste Order from the ground up. Took mercenary work where I could contracts from a few major powers war is what i know best so i put my skills to use to survive."


His gaze drifted briefly toward the station walls, and then back to Finley. "Recently, I accepted a long-term commission under the Diarchy. Diarch Reign and Diarch Rellik good people. It doesn't hurt that their ideals line up with mine. Order, balance, responsibility. It's... a rare thing these days. almost feel like family... but dont tell them i said that i wont hear the end of it from the smaller one" Before Finley could reply, Laphisto's ear twitched, his gaze snapping sideways toward a stack of cargo crates.

The hulking Basilisk War Droid was attempting, rather poorly, to hide behind them. Its large frame shifted with an awkward clunk of servos, one glowing photoreceptor peeking out like a guilty child. Laphisto narrowed his eyes. "Vraen," he barked, voice sharp and commanding. "Go to your docking port. Now. You're already in enough trouble as it is."

The droid let out a low, warbling groan, somewhere between frustration and sulking resignation. It stomped off with heavy, reluctant steps, pausing briefly to glance back with mechanical reproach before disappearing behind a blast door. Laphisto exhaled and shook his head slightly."My apologies," he said, glancing back at Finley. "Still getting used to having Vraen around again. Considering I left them alone for a few thousand years… they've grown a little attached to seeing me again."

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Finley nodded along as Laphisto gave him the short and sweet version of his progress over the past few decades. It was honestly quiet impressive, seeing how well his old friend had been adapting to the modern world.

"That's very good," Finley said with an approving nod, then laughed a little seeing the way Laphisto handled his wardroid like a Kath hound. One didn't see that everyday. "I can only imagine, I'm told that a Basalisk, once bonded with its rider, has a loyalty as unbreakable as Beskar. You should definitely cherish that."

He began to walk with Laphisto, looking around at the structures beyond the dock. "Apologies if it seems like I dropped in unannounced with my boy, but I was actually answering your invitation to explore the Kiev'ara system. More specifically to test some new astrogation technologies being developed by a little consortium I've been working with in the Core. The unique navigation challenges of the system you presented in your preliminary surveys will help us better calibrate our own platforms to deal with the wider issues the whole galaxy has been having with hyperspace flight as of late."

"That said, you know I couldn't come out here without checking in on you first," he grinned up at Laphisto. "I'm quite interested in this Diarchy as a whole, in the institutions you've been crafting. It's quite different from what I've seen in this space before, traditionally dominated by the Sith and the more secular Imperial offshoots they've spawned. That is, if you have the time to indulge my curiosity?"


Laphisto

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto gave a low chuckle, shaking his head with a subtle nod toward Finlay. "Aye... and I suppose leaving them alone for so long has made them a touch clingy if not outright possessive," he mused, his laughter rumbling softly in his throat. His gaze drifted toward Finlay, eyes narrowing in what might appear a glare to the unknowing. But to those familiar with him, it was just Laphisto trying to see more clearly.
"It seems I've found my species' homeworld," he said quietly. "Though in truth... it found me long before I ever found it."

Mid-sentence, a sharp twinge of pain seized him. His body stiffened as veins along his neck and arms flared with a sudden green, fire-like glow—brief, but unmistakable. He froze in place, jaw clenched, before the strange energy faded as quickly as it had come. With a few heavy breaths, he exhaled and shook his head, a low rumble escaping from deep within.

"I fear I might be dying," he admitted, voice quieter now less warrior, more man. "I can't explain what's happening. My mind, my dreams... they're overwhelmed with visions of this dead world. But the strangest part?" He paused, eyes distant. "I'm not feeling these things through the Force. This is different. It's as if something buried deep inside me has always known this place recognized it long before my mind ever could and i hope to find answers on the world itself ." Shaking his head again, Laphisto gave a small, almost reluctant smile and flicked his gaze toward the pair. "Still... if there's anything you'd like to know about the Diarchy, you've only to ask. What stirs your curiosity most, my old friend?"

Mykel Dawson

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Finley's whole demeanor changed, from being jovial and lighthearted to a much sober expression as his smile faded. Mykel's eyes widened, shocked by the revelation. He only knew this man by reputation, but his compassion was such that he already felt bad for the man.

"Perfect timing on my part..." Finley started. "We can shelve the Diarchy discussion for now, my friend. Tell me more about your condition. The Silver Jedi Concord is no more, but many of our former healers from the Silver Circle are still active. If there's anything that can be done, name it."

Finley felt some guilt now, going all these years without much interaction with the man he had essentially spawned into this world. On some level, the Corellian still felt some responsibility for him, even as Laphisto had far exceeded his own station as a leader of an interstellar nation.

Kin was kin.

"Can you explain in greater depth what you feel? Beyond the Force in your perception?"

Laphisto