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Star Wars: A Final Hope (IC)[OPEN]

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Star Wars: A Final Hope (IC)[OPEN]

Postby Jedi Council » Wed Jun 27, 2018 12:11 am


Telos IV
Grand Master Kara Ka


The sky darkened as Coalition and Alliance cruisers ripped out of hyperspace, their silhouettes bright pinpricks of light in the moonless night. As one, the assembled Jedi, some 500 strong, rose, some gasping, others crying out in worry. Kara Ka stared at the newly arrived guests and bit her pale red lip. She knew this conclave was a bad idea, she had warned against it, she had begged Ek-Marai to remain hidden on Ilum. And here she was, vindicated.

A hail of orbital turbolaser fire fell upon the small vale within which the Jedi had assembled, a torrent of red and green energy ripping apart the earth, sending men, women, and their assorted space craft flying through the air. Some Jedi scattered, some were immediately incinerated, some raised their hands in an effort to shield themselves with the force, or ignited their sabers as a matter of habit, yet all of it was futile. Before the first blast had even touched the ground, Kara was moving, opening herself to the force and releasing its energy into her limbs. Willing herself forward, the Togrutan Master grabbed her young apprentice by the wrist, and began to run. Dodging around fires, wreckage, bodies, and crowds of scrambling Jedi, the pair began to make their way to the forest at the foot of the vale.

"Go," Kara said as she pushed her student toward the forest, "Get back to the ship! Fire up the engines, and be ready for me to return!"

Spinning on her heels, the Jed Master did not even wait to see if young Illia Daal followed her orders, she knew she would. Streaming from the burning vale, injured and wounded Jedi, those few that had survived the initial bombardment now trickled forth, bloodied and bruised. Kara beckoned them, leading Masters, Knights, and Padawans towards the awaiting ship. Yet, even as the Cruisers above them halted their murderous hail of energy, the roar of engines took their place in the ears of the survivors.

"Transports," a Jedi called, "Run!"

"This way!" Kara called, "Into the forest!"

The stragglers began to run from the hills, and into the eaves of the dense wood. Kara spotted Ek-Marai at the back of the crowd, lightsaber in hand, and missing a his left lekku.

"Grandmaster!" Kara called, as she drew her own blade, allowing the injured Jedi to lean on her for balance. "Our ship is this way, please, we dont have much time."

The elder twi'lek nodded, gripping his chest with a claw like hand as he wheezed forward.
"Aye Kara," he said sadly, "You were right, you have always been right."

The Togrutan shook her head, elegant montrals framing her face.
"No need to worry about that now, we must..."
Kara was cut off by the sound of blaster fire, red bolts ripping through the forest behind. Ek-Marai released a small gasp as the smell of burnt flesh and singed cloth permeated in the air. Suddenly, he went limp, held only by the weight of Kara's arms.
"Master..."
A second bolt whizzed past the Jedi Master, who, with a grunt, was forced to drop her fallen colleague. Kara jumped back, and peered from behind a tree. A line of Coalition and Alliance troops were moving forward, blasters raised. Gripping the leather bound hilt of her lightsaber, Kara pressed its activator, the familiar hiss following the appearance of her emerald blade.

The Jedi Master heard the troopers footsteps. She felt their life through the force. Yet, as she was about to step from behind the tree, she felt their life snuffed out. The roar of blaster fire and a wall of heat surged past her, blistering the back side of her tree. Bright searchlights illuminated her position, and Kara stepped out into them blade held high.

Suspended above the burning plain, an ancient cruiser hovered, docking ramp lowering. Through the bright light, Illia cried out, "Master, come on!"

Without thinking, Kara leaped forward, into the light.


Kara Ka awoke with a start.
Light flickered off the icy walls of her chambers as a dying candle breathed its last. The small room she called her own was line with carpets, drapes, and clothes of many colours, anything to keep the cold at bay. Along one wall, sat her bed, upon which she sat. Along the other wall lined the prized possessions of the Jedi Order, everything she had salvaged from Jedi sites across the Galaxy. Ossus, Coruscant, Ilum, and farther afield, Kara had spent much of the preceding decade trying to save as much of the Order as she could.

Now, as sweat dripped off her brow from her nightmare, Kara peered at the damp wall and sighed. Another day, just like so many others, and she still could not forget Telos IV. Standing, the Jedi Grandmaster stretched the ache from her body, and went to her dresser. Clad now in her brown Jedi robes, the Togrutan grazed a hand along several heavy coats. Selecting the thickest and most warm, she folded it in her arms, and stepped through the small, icy, hole she called a door.

The caves of Ilum had once been filled with kyber crystals, the power cells of the old orders lightsabers. Now, few remained, the walls were bare, aside from the utilitarian shelves and equipment the Jedi had cannibalized from the ship that had spirited them from Coruscant, the ancient Archangel. As she trudged through the carved out halls of the Cavern, she neared the old Temple itself. Here, the jagged walls turned smooth, the cramped spaces became a wide cathedral of carved pillars and niches. Most of her coven lived within these walls, and many of them nodded respectfully as she past near, some muttered Master. As she neared the great doors that lead to the icy plains of Ilum, the Warden moved to greet her.

"Good morning Master Neloth," Ka said softly, inclining her head at the large Quarren that was bundled before her.

"Master Ka," Neloth said. "Ranging today?"

The togrutan chuckled as she opened the massive stone doors with her mind. "A visit, to the shrine."

The hike to the top of the cliff was long, and the winter winds whipped at Kara's heavy coat. Yet, as she neared the summit, she breathed a deep sigh of relief. From this height, the horizon of Ilum showed its curvature, and the temperature was dangerously low. The Jedi Master saw her breath in the hair, hovering like a small cloud, though, as it dissipated, a small twinkle emerged in the distance. A single golden chest, octagonal, sat embedded in the ice.

Placing a pale red hand on the chest, Kara smiled and released herself into the force...


The Crucible
Ilia Daal



"I have eyes on them," Ilia said softly into the comm link embedded deep in her ear. Hidden by her long auburn hair, the device allowed seamless communication with her brother, stationed as he was on the other end of the space port. The Crucible was always crowded but rarely haf it seen this much tension. After a decade of peace, Alliance and Coalition negotiators were resigning the Carida Concordat, the only document keeping the Galaxy at peace.

"I still don't know why we are here," Korven's voice buzzed in. "The Jedi should hate the Concordat. And dont tell me you hate nothing, I dont buy it."

Illia frowned, ignoring her brothers last comment. "We are here to ensure the security of the Concordat. Master Ka does not want another war in the Galaxy."

"Master Ka doesnt work for the Alliance any more. To hell with them both."

"Ill explain later Korven, just keep your eyes peeled." Illia had hardly taken her gaze of the men in front of her. At the small cafe on the Crucible's promenade, several well appointed men sat eating and drinking to excess. "I have my eyes on the Alliance delegation, any sign of our Coalition friends?"

"A Pellaeon class destroyer just dropped out of hyperspace, they will be here any moment. When they arrive Im going too... oh hello ladies."

Illia rolled her eyes.
"Korven, focus."

"Koh-to-yah baby, you ever been with an oxygen breather before?"

"Korven!"

"Relax Illia, this is an easy gig, neither the Coalition nor the Alliance wants war. Why would they sabotage thwir own peace process?"

Illia squinted at the Alliance delegates, one of whom had just vomited into a nearby planter.
"We just need to be sure. We do not intervene unless necessary."

"Well our Coalition friends just docked, they are being lead go their rooms. By the force thats alot of body guards." Korven chuckled. "Maybe they were sent by the Ambassadors wife, with all the women around here..."

"Korven," Illia said more forcefully.
The low level static was her only reaponse before Korven softly said "Your lucky I have incredible self restraint."

"You wanna buy sone death sticks?" An unfamiliar voice buzzed in Ilias ear, someone having leaned in close to speak with Korven.

"Hell yeah!" Her brother replied, much to Illia's annoyance.

"By the Force Korven," Illia said, watching as her quarry began to stumble off from the Cafe. "The signing is in 5 hours, just behave until then."

"C'mon little sis, when have I ever let you down?"

"I dont have time to count," Illia said sharply, before turning off her comm, and following her prey down the promenade .
Last edited by Jedi Council on Wed Jun 27, 2018 2:27 am, edited 1 time in total.
"We Are Keepers of the Peace, Not Soldiers"
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Ormata
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Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Ormata » Wed Jun 27, 2018 1:16 pm

Image

Grand Admiral Krast
ISD-Exultation
Crucible Station




The Maw was home, in a way. Just a certain strange manner, an old manner, and a manner that no longer really applicabile towards most things in life. The Exultation had been built there, ages past, built there with the purpose to build more superweapons, more designs that would halt a resurgent New Republic, more weapons for the Empire and for an Emperor who no longer drew breath. The Maw’s shipyards built pieces of her, once upon an age-old time, and it was home in that manner. Briefly she wondered if parts of that station were still there, mixed-in amongst the detritus. She disliked leaving that place for that very reason. It just felt wrong.

She stood on the bridge, the lights bright enough to see the consoles, to see out along the massive expanse of her vessel’s length, flat and smooth and shining, into the black abyssal void. She stood on the bridge, looking out into Hyperspace more specifically, at the swirling blue vortex that was a world unknown to life, unknown to such things as planets and distance, an alternate plane which was beyond typical struggle. She could see the streaks of light, flying past her view and past the ship, past everything and past nothing, and the Exultation so moved through Hyperspace. It was a realm that they passed-through only, never truly staying for long. The blue light cast shadows behind her, despite the lights above, a tint along the rims of her face as it bathed her in light. The gray uniform was resilient towards many things, such as joy and happiness. What it most definitely was not resilient towards was the otherworldly glimmer of that strange universe that was not being, yet was. She stood there, watching it, a steaming ceramic mug in one hand. That was a world that would never be held was one thought that came to her mind. It was also a world that held only space and no space. Briefly she wondered if anyone had made the attempt to create some form of emotional or sensory art piece for the realm that wasn’t. Briefly.

This was Grand Admiral Krast. She took a sip of her tea.

They were travelling to The Crucible, to a peace treaty and to meeting the Galactic Alliance. The Grand Admiral herself was somewhat obliged to be there, on account of her standing with the Coalition Navy and with Domestic Investigation, though she somewhat did not want to be there. It was a waste of time, in a way, though the treaty was important. It was a role she had to play, however, in the greater scheme of things. She had to play the part of a diplomat, if anything for just the time being, before Krast might go back to her normal life of maintaining the warship, of maintaining a crew, of maintaining a force that could break the back of any major fleet in existence. In that the Grand Admiral had supreme confidence, at the very least.

The Exultation exited Hyperspace, just off the station by some few dozen kilometers. There already was a Pellaeon-class Star Destroyer about the vessel, launching it’s smallcraft to the station, and that ship was dwarfed by that sword that cut through the void. It was nearly humorous, that, judging by the sheer amount of firepower that was at the disposal of whomever might captain the Executor-class, and judging by how remarkably happy people were when they got command of such Star Destroyers. And to think that so long ago, the position to which Grand Admiral Krast had been appointed to had been a punishment. She had enjoyed killing that prick Admiral, back then. It was something she’d done all to fast, however. She didn’t savor it, something that held a bit of regret. Life had handed her too few opportunities for true enjoyment.

“Launch the frigates and alert squadrons in defensive pattern. Keep shields up. XO, you have the com. Do not disappoint me.”
Last edited by Ormata on Wed Jun 27, 2018 1:21 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Brusia
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Brusia » Wed Jun 27, 2018 9:46 pm

Jedi Master Martius Shan and ARC Commander Maverick
The Liberator
Near Kril'Dor
19 BBY


Turbolaser fire from the pursuing Munificent-class frigate lit up the cockpit of the Liberator as a seemingly endless flurry of red bolts screamed past the small shuttle. As if things weren't bad enough already, a small group of Vulture droids launched from the Separatist ship and began pursuing the small vessel, adding fire from their blaster cannons into the already deadly mix.

"Karabast!" Maverick exclaimed as one of the blaster bolts impacted the shuttle's shields "We can't outrun those fighters in a shuttle!"

"Than I guess we'll have to get rid of them the old fashioned way" the Jedi replied. "Are you ready on those guns?"

"Ready when you are General."

Martius cut all power to the shuttle's engines, sending it barreling behind the pursuing fighters before kicking the power back on at just the right moment to give his XO a bead on them. Fortunately what the Nu-class lacked in speed it made up for in firepower, and Maverick quickly blasted the unshielded droid starfighters out of the sky. The Republic's finest weren't out of the woods yet however, and the shuttle soon shook violently as it was struck by a turbolaser bolt from the frigate.

"Shields are buckling and I'm registering multiple systems failures General!" Maverick reported "We can't take another hit like that!"

"Understood, better hold on to something!" Martius pushed hard on the controls and dove towards a nearby asteroid, rapidly maneuvering to put the celestial body between himself and his pursuer. It wouldn't take long for the frigate to maneuver to their position, but the respite bought Martius enough time to make an emergency jump to lightspeed absent enemy fire. As the view of normal space outside the cockpit was replaced by the tell-tale blue tunnel of hyperspace Martius and Maverick breathed a collective sigh of relief.

"Don't think we've had that close a call since Garos IV" Maverick stated while leaning back abit in his chair. "Next time I vote we take our fighters instead of a shuttle."

"Agreed" Martius replied "So how bad were we hit?"

Maverick leaned towards the console in front of him and stated: "Hard to say General, looks like our internal sensors went down when we made the jump to lightspeed."

"Great" Martius replied "Well at least we know what we need to work on first; best get to it then..."





Martius Shan and Maverick
The Liberator
Orbit of Ilum
200 ABY


It took a few hours without an astromech on board to help with repairs, but the Jedi and Clone managed to get the internal sensors up and running again shortly before arriving at their destination. The two returned to the cockpit just as the ship dropped out of lightspeed over Ilum, and Maverick prepared a damage report as Martius again took the helm.

"So how bad is it?" the Jedi asked.

"Bad. Sensors are registering multiple shield malfunctions, sublight engines are nearly fried, and long-range communications aren't functioning. I recommend we put the ship down as soon as possible or gravity may put her down for us."

"Alright, I'll try and land us as close to the crystal caves as possible; the Younglings and their escort should be there by now."

"Short range comms are spotty but still functional, do you want me to try and contact them?"

"Negative, I'll raise them on one of the Order's encrypted channels; best to be absolutely certain that the Separatists can't intercept the message." As he flew in towards the crystal caves, Martius opened the encrypted channel to the planet below and stated: "This is Jedi Master Martius Shan to those preparing for the Gathering: I apologize for being late but we were ambushed by Separatist forces while en route. Our shuttle was badly damaged in the fight and we may be in for a rough landing; if we don't make it, you are to return to Coruscant at once and inform the Republic that we discovered Separatist activity near Kril'Dor.." the Jedi was interrupted by warning sirens as what little remained of the shields struggled to function as the shuttle plummeted through the planet's atmosphere, and the channel soon closed completely.

Inevitably, the shields finally gave way, but fortunately lasted long enough that the Liberator's armor was able to survive the final leg of reentry, and Martius managed to level out the ship and slow her down enough that it skidded along the glistening snow covering Ilum's surface rather than slamming into it, finally coming to a stop in the powdery substance a few hundred yards away. The shuttle's inhabitants collected themselves after their vessel finally came to a halt, and Maverick began to say: "Well, looks like another happy lan..."

Before Martius interrupted: "Not one. More. Word." The crash managed to knock out most of the shuttle's remaining systems, but there was just enough reserve power left to extend the boarding ramp before the ship shut down completely. Knowing it wouldn't be long now before the Liberator's interior would be as freezing as the land surrounding it, Martius and Maverick quickly grabbed their winter survival gear and started making their way towards the crystal caves...
Last edited by Brusia on Wed Jun 27, 2018 9:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.

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Postby Jedi Council » Thu Jun 28, 2018 1:08 am


Ilum
Grand Master Kara Ka



The arrival of the shuttle was betrayed by the roar of its engines streaking through the pale blue Ilum atmosphere. Screeching like a banshee, Kara Ka was startled out of her moment of reverie, just in time to have a smoking and charred ship fly over her head and head for the plain below. Her eyes sharpened, and instinctively, she removed her lightsaber hilt from her belt, is leather wrapped hilt feeling cool in her hand. The ship had clearly seen better days as its wobbly flight path lead it to a screeching halt on the floor below Kara's perch, shards of ice and snow thrown into the air by its rough landing. Something was not right.

"Master Ka to Master Neloth," seh said, raising her wrist.

"Neloth here," the Gatekeeper responded.

"A ship just flew over me, too close for comfort, why did we not pick it up on the proximity sensors?"

A moment of silence past before Neloth replied, a slight hint of embarrassment creeping into his voice.
"My padawan is doing maintenance to the sensors, she appears to have shut off one of them in Grid 45D."

A cheerful voice piped in, Master Neloth's inconvenient Padawan no doubt.
"Master Ka, while the sensors are down, I have yet to upgrade our communications."

"Thankfully," Ka interjected sardonically. "Have they tried to raise us?"

Neloth muttered something before speaking.
"Ahem, yes Master, its encrypted using an old code but it checks out as a Jedi signal."

"How old?"

Another moment of silence past.
"200 years out Master."

Kara furrowed her brow in confusion. A ship bearing 200 year old Jedi code just happens to appear on the only last significant coven of Jedi left in the Galaxy? If was no such thing as luck, coincidences too must be few and far between.
"Lets hear it."

"This... zzz... Martius Shan to... zzz... preparing for the...zzz... I... zzz... for being late but we were ambushed... zzz ... Separatist forces... zzzzzzzzzzzzz... badly damaged in the fight and ... zzzzz... if we don't make it... zzzz.... to Coruscant ... zzz... inform the Republic ... zzz... Separatist activity near... zzzzzzzzzzzzzz."

The Togrutan Master shook her head as the message faded to static, having hardly been able to make out the few words that had forced their way through into her ear. None of it made any sense, it was gibberish, as if the terminology was lifted right from the Clone Wars.

"Neloth, gather the Masters at the door, and send the Padawans to the Archangel, I have a bad feeling about this."

Kara stood, and began her descent down the cliff, leaping and spinning from one crag of rock to another, her pace down noticeably swifter than her climb to the top. After just a few moments, Kara landed on the icy field below, some several hundred meters from the hidden Temple doors, and slightly farther from the crashed shuttle. As she cautiously approached the ship, she reached out with the force. There were life signs aboard, yes, two, but something was not right, as if they did not belong, like snow on Tatooine, or sun on Kamino. As she got closer, she eyed the vessels damage. Blaster fire had torn at its hull, and the crash had done little to help its state of repair. The design itself puzzled the Jedi Master. While bend wing shuttles were common, the markings on the side clearly indicated that it was a product of Cygnus Spaceworks, the corporation famously dismantled by the New Republic due to its Old Empire sympathies. But yet, that was nearly a century ago, most Cygnus ships belong in junk yards, not battlefields.

Finally, coming to the base of the shuttle, anticipation mounting, Kara prepared to open the main hatch. As she reached for the handle, a whoosh of air fell over her, and the ramp began to lower of its own accord. In a flash, Kara was moving, leaping back through the air as she ignited her emerald blade. Two figures began to emerge from the ship, one was quite clearly armed.

Without waiting to hear their greetings, Ka thrust a hand forward, sending a wall of telekinetic force towards the ship, knocking the two men into the boarding ramp and force them to the ground. Approaching, Kara held her blade horizontally across her body, and peered down at those now at her mercy. One was encased in heavy white armour, something deeply familiar marked its appearance. The other man bore little armour, though, his robes look strangely... like a Jedi!

As she held her blade over the two men, she used her free hand to remove her goggles, and lower her hood, protected from the win as she was by the massive wings of the shuttle. Her montrals elegantly framed her face and while her lekku were clearly tucked into her jacket. As the men came too, she began to speak, slowly, with great force dripping from each syllable as she said them.

"I only have two questions. Who are you? Why are you here? Answer carefully."
"We Are Keepers of the Peace, Not Soldiers"
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Brusia
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Postby Brusia » Thu Jun 28, 2018 2:53 am

Martius Shan and Maverick
The Liberator
Surface of Ilum


As Martius and Maverick made their way towards the boarding ramp, Martius sensed the presence of one strong in the force, and assumed the Youngling's escort must've witnessed the crash and come to see if they were alright. Thinking little of it, he began working his way down the ramp next to his XO, when he briefly noticed the Jedi awaiting them stood with her lightsaber ignited and at the ready. Before Martius could state that he and Maverick didn't mean her any harm, he found himself suddenly knocked off his feet, and soon impacted the boarding ramp with a load metallic clang.

Needless to say that wasn't quite the greeting Martius was expecting, and a look of surprise would undoubtedly be evident on his face as he began to lift his head up off the ramp to look towards his attacker. Had it not been for the green blade of her lightsaber, Martius might've mistaken the woman before him as Master Ti, though on closer inspection it was clear that this was someone else; someone he'd never met before. Granted, there were thousands of Jedi in the Order and he certainly hadn't met all of them, but Martius had made a habit of trying to get to know the most promising Jedi in the Order, and with the clear power and skill this woman possessed in the Force he was surprised their paths hadn't crossed before at some point.

Maverick began to recover a few seconds after Martius, and instinctively motioned his head towards one of the DC-17s in his holsters, essentially asking Martius if he should be ready for a fight. As the unknown woman held her weapon over the Jedi and Clone, Martius knew that would be a risky course of action even if she were an enemy, but he didn't get the sense that she truly wished to harm them, and so shook his head at his XO to signal him to stand down. When the woman then asked her questions, Martius slowly lifted his back off the ground and raised his hands away from the lightsaber at his side to try and convince her he wasn't a threat before replying in a calm tone: "There must be some sort of misunderstanding here; I am Master Martius Shan of the Council of First Knowledge and this is my executive officer, Commander Maverick. Grandmaster Yoda sent me here to lead the Gathering in his stead, as he felt he needed to go to Kashyyyk to help repel a droid attack on the Wookiees there. The High Council will verify my identity and orders if you wish to contact them."
Last edited by Brusia on Thu Jun 28, 2018 3:11 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Postby Jedi Council » Thu Jun 28, 2018 11:48 am


The Crucible
Korven Daal


Korven yawned wide, and stretched out, his body laying flat against the red silk of the bed he had made a temporary home to. As he slowly awoke, he wiped the weariness from his eyes, and sat up, head pounding from the incredible amount of alcohol he had consumed the night prior. As he tried to remember what had occurred after that final Tatooine Sunrise, he surveyed the room. Well appointed, with red and gold trim. His clothes lay in a bundle to his left, and he heard vague noises from the adjacent room, the sound of running water and signing. On the nightstand, a series of death sticks lay empty, their contents clearly now coursing through Korven's veins.

"Shit," he muttered as he swung his legs over the bed, and attempted to collect his things. "Illia is going to kill me."
Having been once an addict to the drug, Illia, and to a large part Master Ka, had used their healing powers to keep him clean, and indeed, restore the years of damage he had caused for himself down the road. As he struggled to put his pants on, he heard the door to the room open, and his unknown lover enter. His jaw dropped.

"Hiya darling," a silking voice called, words released from a mouth several feet from its face. "Where ya going."

Korven stopped, eyes wide, as he slowly reached for his shirt. Pa'lowick women were infamously vengeful if scorned, and he had no interest in doubling down on his mistake. "I uh," he began before his comlink buzzed loudly.

"Korven," illia's voice called over the static, "Where are you? The summit is only in a few hours and we have a definite problem."

"Who's that," the Pa'llowick said, suspicion suddenly dripping from every word.

Korven smiled awkwardly, and moved towards the alien arms raised.
"Heyyyyyy so, you see," before he could finish he was running, shirt and commlink in hand, as the cries of his date faded behind him. Sliding underneath the door to her expansive suite, Korven kept moving, the eyes of numerous other denizens of the Crucible clearly on him as he bobbed and weaved down the promenade.

"Korven," Illia called again, annoyance making itself known in her tone.

"Give me one bloody second," he growled into the Comm, and he ducked into a crowded cafe. "Im almost at the ship."

"I have been waiting for-"

The voice faded in the comm as Korven jogged over to Illia, her slight frame surrounded by the bright lights of docking port C34. He was breathing hard, as his sister took the measure of him, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

"No shirt?"

Korven, bent over as he was, held up the white cloth, ragged breaths coming fast and shallow. He heard his sister snort, as she poked a dark purple patch on his neck.

"A Pa'lowick by the looks of it."

An exhausted Korven whipped his head up, scowling at Illia.
"Dont even, you do not get to comment after-"

"Kel Dor? Naboo? Or are you referring to Nal Hutta?"

As he pulled the his shirt over his head, he brushed off his shoulders, and ran a hand through his hair. "You claimed to need me? Or did you just call me here to mock me?"

"We have a problem."

"Are Jedi always so vague, I mean that could literally mean-"
Korven's voice trailed off as he peered out the massive transparisteel viewport that made up most of the wall of the promenade. Suspended in space, like a dagger cutting through the void and blocking the light of distant stars, hung a massive ship, kilometers long at least. Korven knew its name before Illia even muttered it.

"The Exultation," the Jedi knight said, folding her amrs. "And where the Exultation goes-"

"Krast is no doubt close by."

Grand Admiral Krast was one of the most senior members of the Coalition military. As the de facto leaders of the Coalition, the high ranking officer class often doubles as political partisans, and Krast was one of the few women who had made it to the higher echelons of Coalition Command. Her ship, the Exultation, was known as one of the more fearsome vessels in the Galaxy, and her strategic acumen was rumored to be almost as strong.

Korven rubbed his forehead.
"Why is she here?"

Illia shrugged in response.
"Its the signing of the Carida Concordat. Everyone who is or wants to be anyone in the Coalition needs to be seen. You think Krast just came for a courtesy call? If you can insert yourself into the biggest political event in the last decade, you can gain alot of prestige. And among Coalition Officers, appearance means more than skill."

Korven eyed the massive ship as it launched several wings of fighters and shuttles, no doubt securing the area.
"What do we do?"

"What we came to do. What Jedi always do. Protect the peace."


Ilum
Grandmaster Kara Ka


"There must be some sort of misunderstanding here; I am Master Martius Shan of the Council of First Knowledge and this is my executive officer, Commander Maverick. Grandmaster Yoda sent me here to lead the Gathering in his stead, as he felt he needed to go to Kashyyyk to help repel a droid attack on the Wookiees there. The High Council will verify my identity and orders if you wish to contact them."

The mans words rang hollow in Kara Ka's ears as he recited them, his diction and dignity clearly marking him as a Jedi Master. Yet, the words, the people, none of it made sense. Council of First Knowledge? Droids invading Kashyyk? The Gathering? All of these had only occurred or been in existence before the Great Jedi Purge some two centuries prior. The mention of Master Yoda immedialy sent chills down Kara's spine. The legendary Jedi Master, who had proved instrumental in not only the Old Order, but also the training of the Jedi that would found the New iteration was a figure even the youngest initiate knew. But he had died just before the fall of the Empire, as recorded in the Skywalker Holocron.

Kara shook her head, and lowered her blade slightly.
"This doesn't make sense." She said aloud, voice carrying over the wind. She took a step back, and looked at the ship, smoke still rising from several scorch marks in its hull. Eying the side of the craft, Kara noticed a pale red motif, circular, with eight arms extended from the centre.
"The Old Republic..." Kara muttered, as if she had forgotten about the two men who still lay in the snow.

Possibilities flashed before her eyes. In what seemed like merely a moment, The Grandmaster's memory went to work. Her early training had included vast education on the Clone Wars, the Old Order, the Jedi at the height of their power, and their eventual destruction at the hands of Darth Sidious. Kara's own master, the long lived Whipid Jedi K'Kruhk had been a prominent member of the Old Order, and a founding member of the New. Images of old books and holocrons filled Kara's mind, as she studied the ship. It seemed, familiar. A small registry number could be made out just below a massive singe mark, and Kara committed it to memory.

"Master Tabuns," she called into the Comm half heartedly.

"Yeeeeeeeeeeees," the Thispasian Librarian replied slyly.

"Please run this registry number, I want to know this ship. Focus on... Old Republic vessels. Clone Wars era."

It took merely a moment before Tabuns replied.
"NU-Class attack Shuttle Liberator, assigned as the personal transport of Jedi Master Martius Shan in the second year of the Clone Wars. Served on several battlefields before disappearing en route to Ilum after Master Shan was assigned by the Council to lead the Gathering in the stead of Grandmaster Yoda."

Kara shook her head.
"It doesn' make sense."
She remembered the stories of the lead up to the final days of the Clone Wars and the terrible events of Order 66. The destruction of the Order, the death of almost every Jedi. The Gathering had not occurred in centuries, the last one having been under the supervision of... Martius Shan. The story came roaring back to Kara like a wave. Master Shan disappeared en route to Ilum, presmued killed by Seperatist or Clone Forces. The Younglings were captured by imperials when they attempted to return to Coruscant...

Kara snapped out of her reverie and marched through the snow, back to the now standing mystery men.

"You do not make any sense," she said, extending a single red finger towards the long lost Jedi Master before her.
"Martius Shan was declared MIA by the Old Order some two centuries ago, before the Great Purge. How can you now claim to be a man long dead?"
Last edited by Jedi Council on Thu Jun 28, 2018 11:51 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Ormata
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Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Ormata » Thu Jun 28, 2018 1:00 pm

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Grand Admiral Krast
ISD-Exultation
Crucible Station




Beneath the massive Executor-class there lay so, so much more. Launching lights began, white lights dotting the surface of the hull and coming online in sporadic little patterns and clusters, before then the red and blues began, flashing and spinning in their own little cases. Ten frigates, often implemented in the most fast attack roles the Coalition could find, often headhunters and skirmishers in order to break lines, were housed along that hull, housed on the outside with connectors and tubing attached. These were rapidly disconnected, the Ardent-class warships disgorging themselves from the vast warship and taking-up picket roles. All it took was a minute, maybe a few seconds more. They practiced that maneuver often.

From the hangars came squadrons of escort fighters, two hundred numbering in the swarm, TIE/HU fighter-bombers extending their S-foils and assuming positions about the warship to dissuade any attacking force that might think to dare challenge the full might of the Exultation. The XO was quite capable in his role as such; he had been hand-picked by Krast, after all, both for loyalty and for capability. A singular shuttle launched from the vessel, flanked by two full squadrons of TIE/HUs and escorted by an Ardent-class, ready to shield and pick-up the transport in the event of any sort of major weapons fire. Grand Admiral Krast took no changes concerning the Galactic Alliance.

When it landed, out came the Grand Admiral herself, in full dress white uniform with medals displayed proudly upon her chest, flanked by three squads of Marines. The vast majority of the Coalition’s forces were considered barbaric in some regards, the aspects of war being repugnant to many, with the concerns of winning in the most rapid way on their minds. They raised villages, butchered inhabitants, all in the quest to cause enemy capitulation as rapidly as possible. If a war was to be won, it could be won through making war so cruel and capricious that none would wish to fight it. That was the vast majority of Coalition forces. These were not that. These Marines were detached from the 348th, “Krast’s Own” due to their near permanent station aboard the Exultation, made solely by her for her own uses. They were most certainly not picked for their aggressiveness, for their capacity, or their lack in capriciousness.

They were chosen because they were professional, able to disassociate war from life, able to do what was required and not one step more. They were chosen because of restraint in the heat of war. They were hers, hers alone, and that showed. Each one of the hundred-strong guard wore Katarn Mark 10 Commando Armor, descended from the Republic and later Imperial Commando units, armor capable of surviving in a vacuum, of withstanding light laser cannon shots, of surviving close-in grenade strikes. They were, each and every one of them, a clone of one variant, and they were very, very good at their jobs.

She had them specially ordered. It had been worth it.

Descending the ramp, they had arrived on Crucible Station.

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Brusia
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Brusia » Thu Jun 28, 2018 7:36 pm

Martius Shan and Maverick
The Liberator
Surface of Ilum


Martius and Maverick glanced at each other when the woman before them stated: "This doesn't make any sense." On that, at least, they could certainly agree. How was it that this Jedi hadn't been notified of their arrival, and why did she seem to think Martius and Maverick would be hostile? Martius shrugged towards Maverick as the woman inspected what was left of their shuttle, and the two stood up, as she spoke with a "Master Tabuns," a name Martius oddly didn't recognize.

The conversation itself was strange too, while checking his ship's registry number seemed a reasonable precaution to Martius, he couldn't understand why she asked her contact to look at vessels from the "Old Republic" or why she spoke of the "Clone Wars era" as though the war was over. Martius couldn't make out Tabuns' reply over the howling of the wind, but whatever he said it soon sent the woman back in front of the two, and Martius raised an eyebrow in surprise when she pointed to him and stated that he didn't make any sense. He was even more confused when she stated he had been declared MIA by the "Old Order" two centuries ago before a "Great Purge".

None of what the woman said made any sense to Martius: the only purge he knew of was in the Dark Wars some four thousand years ago, and he'd only been delayed by a few hours, which was certainly not enough time for him to have been declared MIA, let alone to have been declared such for some two centuries. Martius brought a hand up to his chin and rubbed his beard as he pondered possible explanations for what was going on, and when the woman asked how he could claim to be a man long dead, Maverick stated: "Look ma'am, I don't know what's going on here, but I've known General Shan for years; fought with him in more battles than I care to count and I can tell you he's exactly who he says he is, and he's certainly not dead."

"Not yet anyway" Martius interjected "Though if the temperature drops much further we may all soon find ourselves one with the Force." Looking towards the Jedi woman, Martius continued: "I'd invite you onto the Liberator for shelter, but without a new power cell I'm afraid it would provide little protection against the cold. I hate to impose, but without your assistance we aren't likely to survive long here; if you'd be willing to provide us shelter you have my word as a Jedi that we won't start any trouble. Besides, I suspect we both stand a better chance of learning more about whatever's going on here if we work together."

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Jedi Council
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Anarchy

Postby Jedi Council » Fri Jun 29, 2018 2:42 am


Ilum
Grandmaster Kara Ka


Kara Ka tilted her head as the mysterious man asked for shelter. Having been so absorbed in the confusion that the arrival of this odd pair, and their ancient ship, caused, Kara had not noticed that the distant sun was setting, and darkness was falling across the icy plains of Ilum. Few being could survive on the surface during the day, much less the unimaginably cold temperatures of night. While she still held her reservations about the veracity of the men's claims, she could not leave them in the cold to die, nor stay with them out here, for she would then freeze with them. With a scowl and a tilt of her head, Kara motioned towards the hidden door that lead to the old Crystal Temple. If he was telling the truth about his past, he would no doubt be familiar with the place

The trio trudged across the barren waste that Kara had called home for more than a decade, and the Jedi Grandmaster continuously pondered the strange events of the day. Two men in an ancient ship crash land on a hidden world known only to Jedi, only to then claim to be men who died two centuries prior. She had heard of long lived Jedi, indeed, some species lived venerable lives, expanded by the force. Even at her fifty nine years, she felt no older than thirty. However, to extend ones life by the centuries, had only be attempted by the Sith, with varying degrees of success.

Having made their wordless trek from the shuttle to the Temple Doors, Kara waved a hand. The doors slowly crept open, snow sliding off their old hinges. The once elaborate facade of the temple was little more than a jagged cliff, and the interior had been plundered of most of its crystals, but the door remained intact. Entering the relative warmth of the main Hall, Kara saw her orders had been followed. The Council had convened, her five most powerful and trusted Masters standing before her, ready to see if the new arrivals were friend or foe.

The assembled Jedi would not have been seen as such to the eye of an outsider, but their swooping ribbons of clothe over top of warm winter garments clearly showed the wearers allegiance. Many of these Masters had fought in the Great War, and some bore their scars with pride, others bore more hidden damage. None save for Kara had been a member of the Council at the Wars conclusion. As "Martius Shan" or whatever his real name may be, and his clone companion crossed the threshold, Kara turned, and once more lowered her hood. The Jedi behind her tensed as they saw the newcomers.

Kara began the long process of introducing the Council to the new arrivals, starting from the large thispassian on her left.

"Master Tabuns," she said, voice echoing on the ancient walls. "Our chief librarian, historian, and keeper of our... archives."

Tabuns hissed and his tail whipped about with derision.
"More like keeper of our singular bookshelf."

Kara ignored the pessimism of the librarian and moved to the next.

"Master Kryce Morgra," she said pointing to a slender zabrak female. "Lightsaber instructor and Battlemaster."
Next up was the tall human, whose left eye was hidden under a deep black eyepatch, black hair helt tightly in a sage like bun at the back of his head.
"Master Ince-Lo-Tah, specialist in diplomacy and politics." The human bowed in respect at the guests, the only to do so as of yet.

The next master appeared to be almost as old as the Temple itself, an old human woman, with cragged features and brittle while hair.
"Master Jotuna Pilar, our resident healer."

"And finally," the Togrutan said, waving a hand at a Master Neloth. "Our Gatekeeper."

The five other Council members nodded their greetings, but the tension hung in the air as though one could cut it. Kara knew they were suspicious of these newcomers, and she shared their concerns. However, if this truly was Martius Shan, if he had somehow crossed 200 years of history, he may prove to be the most able recruit the Exiles had had since Telos IV.

"Now," KAra said slowly, folding her hands in front of her. "You claim to be Martius Shan, Jedi Master. The very same Martius Shan who, acording to MAster Tabuns here, went missing en route to this very planet some 219 years ago. Now, I am not an expert on our history, nor would I presume to know the ways of the Force or Universe in their totality, but it would appear that if you are telling the truth, you have arrived at your destination two centuries late."

Master Morgra interrupted, her voice impatient and harsh.
"Or you could both be con men who just caught a lucky break by crashing near the only Jedi Sancutary left in the Galaxy. A begrieved people are easily swindled."

Master Tabuns nodded in agreement, though Kara waved off their concerns.

The Togrutan inched forwards, arms crossed.
"While I do not share Master Morgra's sentiment, I do not take kindly to being taken for a fool. You claim to be from a bygone era, before the rise of the Great Jedi Purge, the rise of Paplatine and his Empire, the Galactic Civil War, the Yuuzhan Vong invasions, the rise of Darth Caedus, the rise and fall of Darth Krayts One Sith. How in the Force do you expect us," she waved a hand at the collected Jedi, the most powerful and wisest left among the Order, "To believe you?"
Last edited by Jedi Council on Fri Jun 29, 2018 2:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
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G-Tech Corporation
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby G-Tech Corporation » Fri Jun 29, 2018 5:08 pm

Commissar Xavier Shakhar
ISD-Order
Crucible Station

The ship that shunted its way out of hyperspace a breath behind its counterparts, the negotiators' Pellaeon-class and Krast's Executor was not nearly so notable as the Super Star Destroyer, but no the less impressive to the watchers that would be massed in the galleries occupying every inch of the crucible- the Order was a thoroughbred to the the Pellaeon's workhorse, and her deployment a statement about exactly how important the labyrinthine court and political appointees of the Coalition considered the Concordant's re-approval.

They would mass, their lenses clacking for the faintest glimpse of the vaunted Imperious-class which had had the Alliance's military planners in conniptions for months. Her paint was unmarred, her lines impeccable, her menace unmistakable. All muscle, no fat, a predator of nightmares which made its way amongst the hapless shoals of the spacelanes. The Order and her sister ships, six in the field at the moment, were a dagger aimed at the throat of those in the Alliance who might consider revoking the Concordant- and an eloquent argument that the Coalition in truth required no such shield against aggression. If the fools of the so-called Federation wanted war, the Commissar would be but a single surgical instrument all too happy to render it to them.

Let them gawk. Let them fear. Xavier pulled on his coal-black gloves as he walked towards one of the numerous launch-bays of the ship, his mind turning from the syncophants and propaganda-masters that would be observing the ship's arrival to the practicalities of the day ahead. Next to him two figures in midnight armor walked, silent as the grave, the barest hiss of servomotors and processors marking the passage of the three beings towards Shakhar's shuttle.

It was vexatious, being here at the summit, and yet position demanded it. The Bureau was not independent of political concerns, of the need to appear strong, to convince those nobles, generals, admirals, and men of rank that supported it that their efforts were well-chosen. Uncounted worlds functioned as cogs in the machine that Shakhar had assembled, but it was a system of delicate balance. A synchrony so assiduously aligned required constant maintenance by brilliant minds, and even despite the Commissar's prodigious capabilities, his hands were only one pair of laborers for the field. And so he had to sit here, to nod for the holovids, to cast the pall of deepest winter over those who might whisper of weakness within the Technologists. The Order was just a single part of that calculation.

Up the gangplank to his shuttle the unremarkable man in coal-black tramped, guardsmen in dress uniforms studiously keeping their eyes forward as the figures of the Stalkers at either side of the Commissar passed their arrayed ranks. Little Xavier managed to do was without pomp and circumstance, but the escort of Defenders that traveled with him were more than a formality. Even here, even at a public event, the cutthroat nature of Coalition politics could not be overlooked. Defenders for a man at his most defenseless aboard even a heavily modified shuttle. The Commissar's face was iron as the shuttle traversed the voice to the Crucible, but next to him two of Xavier's adjutant seemed visibly worried.

But the worry was unfounded. In the docking bay the doors of the shuttle opened, and Xavier stood up with a barely concealed expression of annoyance. Best to get this over with as quickly as possible.
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Brusia
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Brusia » Fri Jun 29, 2018 7:24 pm

Martius Shan and Maverick
Ilum


When the Jedi woman motioned that the two could follow her, Martius nodded in thanks, and followed her along the old familiar trail which led to the ancient Temple. When they arrived at the massive facade of ice which hid the entrance into the Temple, Martius couldn't help but grin abit as he thought back to his own Gathering, remembering the happier times before the war when the Jedi served the Republic by helping to keep the peace, rather than by leading its armies into battle. As the facade sank into the ground, revealing the entrance into the Temple, Martius snapped back into the present and continued following the Togruta into the Temple's Main Chamber.

Once there, they were met by five more Jedi, each of whom Martius sensed was powerful, though less so than the woman escorting them, and none of whom he recognized. At this point he wasn't certain if these were truly Jedi of the Order, and thought perhaps he might've run into some sort of Gray Jedi sect, but whoever they were they had at least shown kindness by allowing him and Maverick to enter the Temple unmolested, and so he politely bowed towards each of the five Masters as they were introduced; though only one returned the favor. Once the introductions were out of the way, the Togruta again suggested that Martius and Maverick had not only gone missing, but had vanished for some 219 years.

At first Martius thought perhaps it was simply some sort of clerical error; that he and Maverick had been reported missing and some overworked SIS clerk mistyped when they were last seen. As the Togruta listed off events he'd never heard of and names he didn't know (save for that of the Chancellor of course) that possibility seemed less and less likely however, and the Jedi pondered if there was really some way that he and his XO could have traveled forward in time. Maverick on the other hand was much less convinced, and was becoming increasingly frustrated by the situation; particularly after the woman introduced as Master Morgra stooped to calling them "con men."

Maverick removed his helmet so as to address his accuser face-to-face, revealing a look quite similar to that of Jango Fett, with the only distinguishing difference being a long scar along his left cheek he picked up from an encounter with General Grievous. Glancing first at Master Morgra then turning towards the Togruta, the Clone stated: "Look, I'm not all that familiar with Jedi humor, so maybe this is supposed to be some sort of big joke, but between nearly getting blown out of the sky by a Separatist frigate a few hours ago, crash landing on this frozen rock, and being knocked into a boarding ramp I've had kind of a long day so I'm really not in the mood for this sort of..." Martius placed his hand on Maverick's shoulder to stop the Clone before he said anything that could get them into trouble, then stated: "It's alright Maverick, I don't believe these people meant any offense; they're just trying to figure out who we are."

Martius had plenty of questions for the assembled Jedi, but he knew discussions weren't likely to go anywhere unless he could provide some proof of his identity. Without any sort of documentation on hand however, he'd have to be a little more creative in producing such proof, and looking up at the large chandelier hanging from the ceiling he came up with an idea. Looking at the Togruta Jedi, Martius stated: "I mentioned earlier that I came to Ilum with orders to lead the Gathering; if I may, I believe the best way to show that I am who I say I am is to begin the ritual."

Walking to the center of the Main Chamber, Martius stood on top of a small platform there, and remembering the instructions Master Yoda had given him, lifted his hands up in the air and used the Force to open the large stone window at the far left of the dome which capped the Temple; letting in the last bit of light from the setting sun. As the sun illuminated the crystal in the center of the chandelier, Martius rotated the metal apparatus around it until a small focusing crystal on the edge of the device was in just the right position to reflect a beam of light into the top of the massive arch at the back of the room, causing the inscriptions in the stone to glow with a faint blue light as the wall of ice within the arch rapidly melted and revealed the hidden entrance to the crystal cave just before the sun set and the light disappeared completely. Taking a deep breath, Martius stepped down from the platform and looked towards the assembled Masters, hoping the display would convince them that he was in fact Martius Shan...

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Illegal Planets
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Illegal Planets » Sat Jun 30, 2018 1:53 am



Cado Baas
Galactic City, Coruscant


The underlevels of Galactic City stank of grease, and the gaseous, oily secretions of a thousand different species. Worse was the noise. As a youth, the Lannik's sensitive ears had been bombarded by the cacophany of the bustling underworld. Speeders racing far overhead. The clang and scrape of metal, the shuffle of limbs and strange appendages, the shouts of dubious merchants and shady vendors. Coruscant was the worst place in the galaxy for a Lannik.

Cado straddled the edge of the street, skirting the throng of beings that passed either way. His cloak was draped over his small frame, the hood thrown back to reveal large, drooping ears and a topknot, a satchel slung across his torso. He rounded a corner and casually strode towards an unremarkable metal shack built into the far wall of the alley. As he approached he could hear a thin, electrical whine and buzz of some tool or another.

Standing at the entrance to the shack, the sound suddenly ceased. Cado gently pushed the door open and entered. The interior was a contrast to the world outside. A plethora of tools spanned the walls, many of which he recognized, organized by utility. A few blasters, likely modified, leaned against the base there, and on the opposite side was a shelf filled with an ordered variety of parts and pieces that belonged to various classes of small starships. Clean, methodically organized.

A Verpine, it's green, chitinous skin clad in tattered rags stained with oil and grease, was hunched over a workbench, antennae quivering.

"Ulyx."

The insectoid slowly turned it's head, large compound eyes expressionless. The Verpine had aged considerably in his absence, but it's keen eyes had remained the same. A pair of clicks emitted from it's mouth, and the Jedi recognized the sound as one of contempt.

"My old friend." Cado smirked. "You have it ready?"

"It's ready." It's voice was a high, droning buzz. Ulyx set the tool down and turned to face him. A long silence passed between the pair as the Verpine eyed him with a blank gaze. It's antennae twitched in silent, agitated jerks.

"May I have a look, then?"

Still, Ulyx remained quiet. Annoyed, Cado was about to speak when Ulyx finally stooped and rummaged around inside of some compartment hidden underneath the bench behind it. Gingerly the thing stood and tossed a large, metallic object his way. He caught it with both hands and turned it over, admiring the quality of the almost invisible welds, studying the modifications that would allow the device to fit his particular ship.

"Before you contacted me, I thought you dead, Jedi." Cado froze, alarmed at the maliciousness in Ulyx's tone. "So, you see, I was disappointed to learn otherwise. But then, I remembered how much a live Jedi was worth." The thing's mandibles clicked together menacingly. "Almost as much as a dead Jedi."

Cado gritted his teeth. He could hear many pairs of footsteps coming down the alley now, coupled with voices and intercoms.

He's set me up! Stupid, idiot fool!

How could he have been so naive as to believe he could trust the old bug? Ulyx buzzed and clicked in satisfaction at the expression spreading across Cado's face. But something in the Lannik's eyes caused it to hesitate. One of the soldiers shouted at them from outside.

"To the Jedi known as Cado Baas: You have ten seconds to comply! Exit with--" Cado slipped the device into his satchel and withdrew his sabrestaff. He held a pair of buttons and twisted it's center, seperating it in half, holding a piece in each hand.

"10... 9... 8!"

Ulyx hissed and ducked beneath a table.




"3!"

Cado turned away from the cowering insectoid and calmly exited the shack with a wide grin. The door had barely shut behind him before the Alliance soldiers began to fire their blasters. Their shots ripped through the thin walls of the shack behind him. The Jedi was hardly more than a blur as he darted past them. Their wild shots followed but never struck home, and the tiny figure dived into the crowd and disappeared from sight, the squad of shouting soldiers sprinting after him.




Inside, Ulyx tentatively crawled out from his hiding place under the table and stood slowly. The Verpine studied the empty shack, fearful, it's antennae quivering. It looked on in dismay at the holes caused by the blaster rifles and leaned heavily against the workbench wondering when it would receive payment for services rendered. The sound of twin shotos discharging blue blades of light startled the creature from it's thoughts.

The Lannik seemed to materialize out of the gloomy, dusty air. His eyes were wild, his face grim and determined. Ulyx shrieked and reached around to grasp a hefty metal gadget which it hastily flung at the Jedi. Cado dodged easily and moved towards the thin, terrified insectoid. Ulyx sank to it's knees, pleading.

"Cado! No, p-please!" Cado stood not even a head taller than the kneeling Verpine but seemed to tower over it with deadly purpose. His eyes flashed, and he pointed one of the shotos at the creature's exposed throat. Ulyx began to heave, shaking and whining.

"You are so weak." His voice sounded far away.

"Please don't hurt me!"

Something clicked inside of him. As if with the flip of a switch, his rage left and he was overwhelmed with profound shame. The lightsabers deactivated, and the Lannik turned away from the old, shivering insectoid. He rejoined the shotos together and placed the weapon inside of his satchel before withdrawing a small but fat bag of credits. He laid this gently, wordlessly on a table on the way out as he exited the Verpine's shoddy home. Drawing his hood, Cado walked to the mouth of the alleyway and slid into the crowd without looking back.
Last edited by Illegal Planets on Sat Jul 07, 2018 9:03 am, edited 9 times in total.
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Jedi Council
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Founded: Jan 01, 2018
Anarchy

Postby Jedi Council » Sat Jun 30, 2018 1:54 am


Ilum
Grandmaster Kara Ka


As the strange man approached the central dais, Kara could sense her fellow council members become more apprehensive. The location of the now empty crystal cave had been a secret for centuries, known only to the Jedi. When the Empire mined the planet of most of its usable lightsaber crystals for the construction of their superweapons, the Cave had been one of the first places to be desecrated. Few had entered since then, aside from research and archeological surveys. Even since the Exile, entrance to the cave was restricted due to the strange force visions often induced when inside. Even so, none of the assembled Masters tried to stop "Martius Shan" from activating the oculus and allowing light, and therefore heat, to melt the frozen waterfall that barred the caves entrance.

As the ice dissipated the man turned to look back at Kara. A slight smile appeared to grace his lips, the Grandmaster noted, as she sent feelers into the force. The other masters were still suspicious, especially Morgra, but content at the display. At any rate, he was clearly a Jedi, and Ka herself felt no darkness around him, nor his companion.

"You have proven yourself a Jedi," Kara called, arms still folded across her chest. "But the question still remains, how could you have survived this long in that shuttle, and how do you not know the date."

Master Tabuns slithered slowly to join Master Ka, and hissed an addendum.
"Thisssss isssss mosssst unussssual. If what you ssssay issss true, and you are indeed Martiussss Sssshan, then you are over two ccccenturiessss old."

Kara nodded.
"It may be difficult for you to accept, and have no doubt, it is hard enough to understand how you came to be here. But, the Clone Wars," she nodded at Maverick. "Your war, ended some two hundred and nineteen years prior to today, culminating in the dissolution of the Old Galactic Republic, the Great Jedi Purge, and the establishment of the Empire. Everything you once knew has changed, countless times since then."

"Perhapssssss," Tabuns said as he reached a spindly hand into his robe, "Thissss might be of sssserviccccce." The thispassian produced a small octagonal object, made of what appeared to be etched glass. "Thissss holocron wasss created by Masssster Tionne Ssssolusssar asss a magnum opusss of sssortsss. It holdsss a detailed hissstory of the Jedi Order from the Naboo Crisssisss, to the defeat of Darth Caedussss. It may fill in the blanksss in your memoriesss."

As the librarian handed Shan the holocron, Ince To-Lah moved forward as well, readjusting his eyepatch.
"I will have to warn you, there are no pre-Purge Jedi left alive, the last-," Ince nodded at Kara, "Was Master Ka's teacher, and a previous Grandmaster of our Order, K'Kruhk, now some fifteen years since his passing. All of the people you served with your brothers, and sisters, are dead."

"Most likely did not survive long after you disappeared," Kara intejected. She realized the men before her had no understanding of the gravity of those final days, the betrayal of the Clone Army and the revelation that Chancellor Palpatine was Darth Sidious.
"This may be, hard, to accept, but," Kara glanced at Maverick," Not soon after you were declared Missing in Action, the War ended. The Clone Army, commanded by the Chancellor, killed nearly all of the Jedi, and laid waste to the Temple and sent the few survivors into hiding. As you can tell," she motioned an arm around the crumbling Temple that ensconced them, "Our recovery from that event has been unpredictable."

"Even at our height," Morgra said, "The New Order was maybe a third of the strength of the Old."

Ka nodded in agreement.
"In the years following the Purge, the recovery of the Order was slow. For decades we numbered in the mere hundreds, until once more we were betrayed."

Jotuna Pilar, ancient voice creaking, interrupted.
"Master Ka, as much as we would like to educate our new guests, this is alot to take in. Allow them a chance to rest, and recuperate with the healers, we shall take good care of them. The holocron Master Tabuns gave to Master Shan is more than stocked with relevant information."

The Togrutan nodded, slightly chastised she had not slowed her explanation sooner. She place a reasuring hand on Shan's back as he passed.
"If you require anything, or need any explanation, feel free to come to me at any time. Come, lets go to the Healers, and try to figure out exactly how you got two hundred years from where you were."
Last edited by Jedi Council on Sat Jun 30, 2018 3:58 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States
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Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Great Confederacy of Commonwealth States » Sat Jun 30, 2018 2:53 am

Chalacta
200 ABY


Santigo Milon puffed as he wiped some sweat off his brow. It didn’t help much; his hands were already soaked, as were the rolled-up sleeves of his shirt and the drenched remains of his napkin. It kept the sweat from streaming into his eyes, though, which was enough to justify the action. Santigo grabbed hold again of the log he was dragging up the hill and put his back into it. Foot by foot he pulled the log closer to the great pyre he was preparing, now just a stack of dry wood standing like a tent. In the distance, beyond the lake next to which his homestead was situated, an orange sun was slowly setting. Its fading light cast long shadows through the valley in which Santigo had made his home. He dropped the log and fell down on his rear, breathing heavily as he did so. The failing sunlight felt pleasantly on his skin, and he closed his eyes to get the fullest sensation.

Life wasn’t easy for the people of Alderaan, especially not in Coalition space. Especially not so close to Hutt Space as well. The Coalition did surprisingly little to fight the Hutt slaver raids that ravaged the sector from time to time. Then again, the Alliance hadn’t done too much either. Besides that, the Alderaanian community on Chalacta was really small, comparable to a small village spread over a large area. There was much loneliness and boredom among the colonists, which was why Santigo was taking the time to drag logs up the hill. He had invited a few of his fellow settlers to come and watch the sunset with him, accompanied by a large fire. Hauling up all the logs was taking longer than he planned, though, as his friends could be there any moment.

Santigo opened his eyes to the sound of a ship roaring overhead. Looking up at the sky, it was hard to miss the corvette currently descending through the semi-dark. With large lights it illuminated the ground beneath it, apparently looking for a suitable landing place. It found one quite rapidly, placing itself right next to Santigo’s house. Of course, Santigo wasn’t the least bit confused by this. The model was clearly Alliance: the CR-90 was such a famous model that no other party dared use it in fear of being confused with the Alliance. The general shape was over 200 years old, but with new systems, she ships did as good as ever. Santigo stood up from his seated position and started walking downhill. Walking at first, but as he picked up speed, he started jogging, and then jogging, and then sprinting down the hill. He hadn’t been alarmed at first, but a CR-90 in Coalition space was strange enough to arouse suspicion.

By the time Santigo had arrived at his house the gangplank of the corvette had touched down, spewing forth steam and smoke. The inside of the ship was brightly illuminated, the heavy white light one expected from a ship of Corellian make. Starkly contrasted against that blinding light, which now cast long shadows across Santigo’s homestead, was a dark humanoid figure. Santigo hardly knew what to do, whether to hail the person or to get his blaster rifle from his shed. Before he could do anything, the figure walked down the gangplank. The further he got, the more his details became distinguishable. Blonde hair, square shoulders, and a lean body under a uniform of dark grey and blue. A dark grey cloak hung from his right shoulder, obscuring one arm of the figure. With a few steps the human was down at ground level. He had brown eyes that twinkled in the light of the setting sun, sharply contrasted with his otherwise rigid posture. Captivated by what he had seen, Santigo didn’t even notice the blue-armoured guards following the man in close proximity. While the guards looked suspiciously at Santigo and his surroundings, the uniformed figure seemed completely at easy.

“Good evening, sir” the uniformed individual said. He had a young energy surrounding him, a friendly smile that combined with the twinkle in his eye to form an endearing sight. He extended a hand, which Santigo shook carefully.

“Good evening, sir…” Santigo said, scanning the uniform. It was of very familiar make and colouration. Suddenly, it dawned on him. It was a uniform of the Alderaan Civil Defence Fleet. He quickly scanned the shoulders for rank markings.

“I’m sorry” Santigo corrected quickly. “Captain”

The uniform was not the only thing that was familiar about this captain. There was something about his face, about his whole atmosphere that seemed familiar. Had he seen this man before? The captain didn’t leave much room for him to contemplate, however.

“Ah, you know your ranks well, mister…”

“Milon. Santigo Milon, sir” Santigo said. “And my brother was in the navy. Not a captain, but I read into it once he had gone off to war” he continued. Things had been easier when his brother was still there. In the meantime, his hair had gone grey, and his beard had grown rough and wild. Now, he had to take care of things alone. He looked up at the hill, where the pyre was taking in the last of the orange sunlight. Apparently, the captain caught his view, and followed his gaze up the hill.

“Were you preparing a fire?” the captain asked. Santigo nodded.

“We have a small Alderaanian community here, sir. It isn’t much, but it is a family. We don’t meet often, you see”

His eyes trailed off to the large pile of wood that still lay at the bottom of the hill. There was so much work still to do… How much he missed his brother at times like these. The community hadn’t been the same without him. Without about four other members of their tight-knit group who had gone off to war and never returned. Suddenly, he choked up, not knowing what to say. The captain, seemingly out of nowhere, put a hand on his shoulder.

“Seems like a proper cause to me” he said, before turning to his apparent blue-armoured guard. “Come on, lads. Let’s build this man a pyre”

There was no hesitation from the guards. They quickly ran into the corvette, placed down their rifles against the walls, and came back. There were about ten of them, strong young lads with military training. Santigo choked up even more, and nodded gratefully. Without so much as a command the guards started jogging towards the pile of wood, dragging it up with apparent ease. They even seemed to enjoy it, racing one another to see who could get the logs up quickest. There was laughter among them. The captain, meanwhile, followed Santigo to the log he had dropped when the corvette landed. Grabbing it at its firmest branches, Santigo and the captain started hauling it up. They were less proficient than the guards, but they did get the work done.

“What brings you here, captain? We don’t often get visitors, especially not Alderaanians. Not since our planet was handed over to the Coalition…”

“I heard there was an Alderaanian settlement here. Your info has not been updated in the database for a while, but I thought your homesteads would still be in the same place”

“The database?” Santigo asked, questioningly. The captain nodded.

“Royal Alderaanian Database. We keep tabs on the entire diaspora that way”

“You work for the Prince, then?” Santigo asked. There was little chance the captain didn’t, of course. There weren’t many that wore the Alderaanian uniform in the Alliance navy. It usually was the Civil fleet, which reported directly to the Prince.

“You could say that, yes…” the captain said, a little more vague than Santigo expected.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to blow a secret mission or something…” Santigo said carefully. The captain just laughed.

“Don’t you worry, mister Milon. If that happens, I will just lie, I assure you”

That indeed was something of an assurance, but it did leave a strange taste. What information had been wrong before? Had the captain already lied? Again, Santigo could not finish his train of thought, as the captain asked another question.

“Your brother… Where did he serve?”

That question cut like a hot knife. Santigo had never really learned to deal with the loss of Kollen. One day, all was going well, and the next he got a message from the fleet. Killed in action. No remains to return. No final will and testament.

“He served on the Torpedo, under Prince Ray” he said eventually. The two had reached the top of the hill by now, and together they threw the log next to the secondary pile of wood that the guards had assembled there. They all stood there now, red-faced and looking at their handiwork. There were smiles, and grateful looks from Santigo.

“Captain…” Santigo said, falling backwards on the soft forest ground. “Why don’t you stay for the night? We would love to have a guest among us to tell us about the others of the diaspora. We don’t have much contact here…”

The captain smiled, and looked at the sun setting beyond the hills in the distance. The lake shone with bright orange flames, a view he had missed on the city-planet of Coruscant. A hint of a smile appeared on his face.

“I guess one night…”

Before he could finish that sentence, however, he was cut short by one of the men in blue armour.

“Chancellor, the commodore insists that we get back to the cruiser. He doesn’t want to hang around in Coalition Space any longer than is necessary”

Santigo’s eyes grew three times their size at that instance. He looked from the guard to the captain, who shot irritated glances at the captain of his guard.

“Thanks, Kotus. Tell him we are on our way” he said, that first part sarcastically, before turning to their gracious host.

“I’m sorry, mister Milon. It seems our stay is cut short. I have another appointment I simply have to get to”

In that moment, Santigo felt pity for the man standing in front of him. The twinkle in his eye had disappeared, and his face turned to stone. It was grey, official, harsh. Santigo nodded.

“I’m sorry to hear that, your majesty” he said. “But know that we are forever grateful”

Prince Jorus Antilles nodded back, straightening his shoulders and giving the signal to his blue-armoured consular guard. The men didn’t say a word as they slowly trailed down the hill, meeting the first few guest coming up along the way. Eventually, the Prince and Santigo were left alone. The Prince reached out to shake Santigo’s hand, who hesitated for a moment. Then, the disappointed look in the eyes of Antilles convinced him otherwise, and he shook it heartily.

“I hope you succeed in your endeavours, your majesty” Santigo said. Then, the chancellor of the Alliance smiled, before turning around to find his way down the hill again. When he was just within earshot Santigo yelled one last thing to him.

“And may the Force be with you!”

Outside the Crucible
MC160 Star Cruiser ‘Considerable’
Bridge


“And here we are” Commodore Fritilli said as the massive cruiser left hyperspace. His voice had a mixture of relief and anticipation about it. They were in the lion’s den. An enemy they had spent years fighting, trusting that the authoritarians would keep their word. Fritilli half expected them to be welcomed by a hail of green turbolaser fire, but that luckily didn’t happen. Next to him, chancellor Antilles sighed. The commodore looked at him with an excusing look.

“I am sorry I had to get you away from Chalacta, sir” he said, regretfully. “But the sooner we are done here the better”

“Yeah, I guess you are right…” the Prince said, still staring dead ahead through the bridge of the ship. The Quarren commodore thought about making a remark, but he eventually decided not to. Instead, he focussed on the giant space station that was growing ever larger as they approached it. As it appeared, they were not alone. The most visible of the ships hovering around the station was an ancient SSD built by the Old Empire.

“Those Impies liked their giant ships, didn’t they?” Fritilli said, brushing his hand through his tentacles.

“Which one is it?” The Prince said, not really responding to the commodore. Fritilli looked at his portable command tablet and swiped away a few overlays.

“It’s the Exultation. The puppy of…”

“Captain Krast” the Prince cut him off. His voice had lost the normal, friendly tone it otherwise would have. It was course and rough now. Annoyed, disgusted.

“Actually” the commodore said, correcting the chancellor. “She is a Grand Admiral now. She got her admiralty…”

One look from the Prince shut him up. He made a slight nod and walked off, tending to the communication staff. They needed permission to board. All the while, the chancellor’s vision shot between the space station and the SSD, the SSD and the space station. He was suddenly overcome with a feeling of dread. A life’s worth of memories shot through his head.

He had a bad feeling about this.
The name's James. James Usari. Well, my name is not actually James Usari, so don't bother actually looking it up, but it'll do for now.

Lack of a real name means compensation through a real face. My debt is settled


Part-time Kebab tycoon in Glasgow.

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Ormata
Senator
 
Posts: 3710
Founded: Jun 30, 2016
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Ormata » Sat Jun 30, 2018 10:30 am

Image

Grand Admiral Krast
ISD-Exultation
Crucible Station




The hangar wasn’t at all what one would ever expect from a hangar. The organics that would be scurrying about in flight suits and coveralls, covered in fluids of indeterminable origin, of oil and grease with their faces covered underneath masks and helmets, none of those were there. The transports and fighters one normally would find weren’t present either, the hangar looked to nearly be abandoned. All the equipment that would be about for easier access were also put away, all gone and all stored. Only the movement of a few service droids denoted any sort of life or use in the place, only the lights being on and the steady pumping of oxygen into the room by the refreshers.

Aside from the hum of the shuttle engines, the heavier boots against the metal deck, all was quiet. Her escort fanned-out just a bit, rifles lowered, each of them ensuring that there was no trap that could be hidden among the seemingly harmless situation. There was no mumble in the open air, like those twit troopers from the olden Empire days, nor was there the characteristic open comm chatter that the Rebels and Alliance once had. There was only silence and men talking in the privacy of their helmets. Krast herself wore a little commlink, if anything to simply ensure she knew the situations her men were aware of.

She looked behind her, out past the forcefield that separated them from the dark recesses of space, out into the combined vessels that had arrived. Numerous Star Destroyers were there, an Imperious-class included, though Grand Admiral Krast briefly couldn’t place which one would most likely come to the meeting. There were only six, though she hadn’t memorized the precise Captains of each warship. That is to state, she hadn’t realized until her mind went down the list of those most likely to come out of all who had access to an Imperious-class instead of who had such a vessel that was most likely to come. It was a significant difference. One of the Commissars, more than likely, had entered in, that being...Shakhar. The vessel was looked, even from that distance, new enough to have been one of the later-commissioned warships, and that narrowed the list further to the point where she knew it was Shakhar. The Commissar of Bureau for Technological Procurement and Development had arrived. Interesting.

Grand Admiral Krast’s dealings with the man had been somewhat sporadic before that; he was good enough, more than eccentric, and highly cognizant of what was around him and what was required of him. It had always been a give-and-take, as was the way of many dealings within the Coalition in the upper echelons, and had always been a fair trade in those same dealings. He was a clerk, in many ways, and a damn good one. She could see the shuttle launching from the ship, making it’s way slowly over to the hangar. Then the Grand Admiral saw something else in her great big view. It was a vessel she had seen a few times before, an MC160, and one which was most certainly under command of the highest officers among the Alliance forces. Whomever commanded her likely knew of Krast, of the Exultation. The warship’s first combat appearance, that at Eriadu, was notable in more ways than one, making more than one scar in the soul’s of Alliance Navy officers, making more than one bitter memory on their side, making more than one carcass of a cruiser gutted.

Curious. Absentmindedly Krast briefly grazed one such medal on her chest, the Eriadu Star, before making that small realization and stopping herself.

As the Commissar’s vessel came to it’s landing, the ramp lowered and the man walking-out, Grand Admiral Krast was in a position halfway between being At Ease and Parade Rest. Her stance was relaxed, as would befit many of the upper ranks, his feet kept together and angled at the normal ninety degrees, her arms behind her back and clasped together. She stayed at that position as he came near; after all, the man was a civilian in all the ways that truly mattered, and as such would not salute her unless he was most certainly eccentric. Krast recalled that he hadn’t before, likely wouldn’t now, and that was that. He was flanked by two guards, their midnight armor and servomotor sounds far in contrast to those about them, to the silence of the hangar itself.

“Commissar. A pleasure as always.”

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Nuxipal
Negotiator
 
Posts: 6983
Founded: Apr 25, 2010
Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Nuxipal » Sat Jun 30, 2018 11:11 am

Aryca Sunrider
Taris, Upper City


Aryca had returned to civilized space not more than a month ago. She was trying to hide her force abilities while she was on this new world. So far, she was succeeding. The anti-force user prejudice that was prevalent in the cantinas around here was something she never expected to come across. She knew that the people of Eshan were not the most open to force users, but she never thought there were places that would outright kill them on sight. Because of this, she only used her powers inside of her ship, which she kept docked at a landing pad of a merchant who owed her a favor from a couple of years back.

His manor was rather lavish, but like others here he wasn't a fan of force users. He was speaking of some kind of diplomatic meeting on Telos IV, just along the Hydian Way. She sat on her ship and looked up information on Telos and quickly found information on what her benefactor was talking about. The Carida Concordat was to be resigned on Crucible Station. Being disconnected from the galaxy while with the Sorcerer in the outer rim, Aryca was still catching up on everything that was now happening. The ruler of the Alliance was slain and bombings across the Coalition seemed to be the major events of the past few years.

She decided that this concordat was a problem, with it in place she and every other force user would be in danger. She began doing research to see if she could figure out where force users may congregate in the event of an emergency such as a hostile galaxy.

Within a few hours she created herself a small list of planets to explore and try and create some kind of an alliance of force users. She was getting ready to head back into the manor when she noticed that a group of armed men were walking down the walkway towards her and her ship. She panicked briefly before she greeted them and approached.

"What can I do for you officers today?" She asked as they were close enough.

They looked to one another, "Your ship. It was reported stolen by a merchant captain on the planet. We are here to arrest you and reclaim his property."

She sighed, "This is actually my ship, I purchased it and worked with Captain D'wemos for some time. We had a disagreement, so we parted ways. I suggest you do the same."

The officers looked to one another, "He said that you'd say that. Come with us peacefully or we will have to use force."

They said it, not here. Force. "Fine, I'll use force as well."

She flicked her hand to the side and threw the officers off of the walk way. She heard their screams and knew that reinforcements would arrive soon. She ran back into the ship, sat into her pilot seat and lifted off. First she would go to Ilum in the unknown regions. Her jedi master had taken her there before and it was possible that they were there. Following that she had a list of Tython, Ossus, Korriban, and Ruusan.

She hoped she wouldn't have to get to Korriban or Ruusan, but any force users are better than none. She entered hyperspace towards an empty location in space, followed by a second jump to Ilum.

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Gerdon Laughis
Ambassador
 
Posts: 1142
Founded: Jul 24, 2015
New York Times Democracy

Postby Gerdon Laughis » Sun Jul 01, 2018 3:13 pm

Undercity Quad-3, Taris

A figure crept quietly in the musky, foul smelling Tarisian Undercity. Moving across the planets surface was always a risk as there were a multitude of mutated creatures lying in wait to attack, Gamorrean slavers, and worst of all, Rakghouls. The Undercity had been pleagued with Rakghouls for thousands of years, making it almost inhospitable for the races of the galaxy. Almost.

Due to the isolated nature of this section of the planet, Jedi Knight Sesroe Xabru had been taking shelter there since after the events of Telos IV, where he barely escaped the massacre on the planet with a Sith Holocron he was tasked to protect. After the dissolution of the Jedi Order, Sesroe has maintained complete radio silence with the rest of the Jedi, blocking out any possible contact through the force. But now, as tensions in the galaxy seem to be settling, it is time for the Jedi to reestablish contact with his comrades.

If he doesn't get himself killed first.

"Hey buddy imma need a little help down in quadrant 3, we have some Rakghouls over by what little food we have left. No clue how they got past the wall, but I need those old turrets up Asap." The jedi spoke quickly and hushed, as a metalic voice entered his ear.

Roger-Roger.

Just as the droid replied, a loud metalic screech filled the area as 2 large Old Republic era defense turrets spun around on the makeshift gate that led into the abandoned compound. In a spectacular display of stupidity the Rakghouls attempted to rush the turrets, only to be riddled with holes. Sesroes then emerged from the shaddows as the turrets deactivated, looting what he could from what was at one time a refuge for the sick and poor of Taris before Darth Malak's bombing of the city.

As he turned to leave, a deep gutteral growling came from nearby. Sensing the beast with the force, Sesroe activated his lightwhip and snapped it in the direction of the Rakghoul. It managed to dive through the whip, charging him as he activated his Shoto saber. The brilliant orange plasma glowed with heat as the rakghoul approached. As the beast lept towards him, Sesroe once more snapped the whip towards the beast, this time he arced the whip to go over the body, so as the Rakghoul dodged, he quickly pulled the whip back, and snapped it sending the tip of the weapon into its chest. From there turned the Shoto so the longer end was running down his arm, and wrapped the remainder of the whip around the beasts body. He then pulled the monstrosity towards him, decapitating it as it attempted to futily end the Knights life. With a decisive thud, the body landed, and Sesroe deactivated his weapons.

"Another days work." He laughed to himself as he sauntered back to Nirvana.

Nirvana, Taris

Nuxipal wrote:-snip-



Sesroe opened the hatch of the old Clone Wars Era gunship and set down his bags. Giving a deep sigh of relief, he removed his cloak and threw himself into a nearby chair, looking at his droid sidekick.

The B1 battledroid had been dutifully running diagnostics on not only their ship, but continued to link into the mechanisims of nearby buildings and compounds for continued defense and power. "Sir, good to see you have returned! I was almost worried about the Rakghouls, but then I remember a Jedi of your caliber can alwa-"

Sesroe let out a laugh. "I know Roger, Jedi are stronger than monsters. How are the comms looking?"

The droid flipped afew switches, and patched the gunships radio into the planetary security frequency.

We have comfirmation zz a force user, minor zzzzzzzzz sustained, zzzzzzzz is female, White Skin, Pale Eyes, zzzzzz requested.

The Zabrak's eyes perked up with the mention of a force user. He rubbed his chin methodically, running his fingers across the patterns of his tattoos. He moved himself too the floor and began a deep meditation. "Roger, it may be time to move soon."

Through the force, Sesroe attempted to reach out too the Tarisian Force user, and could slightly sense her power leaving the planet. Before she could reach hyperspace, he attempted contact through the force.

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Brusia
Senator
 
Posts: 4263
Founded: May 22, 2007
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Brusia » Sun Jul 01, 2018 8:05 pm

Martius Shan and Maverick
Ilum


Martius was relieved when Master Ka stated that he had proved himself a Jedi, though that sense of relief would soon fade; replaced by a growing sense of uneasiness as Kara stated that the Clone Wars had ended 219 years ago, ending in the dissolution of the Republic, a Great Jedi Purge, and the establishment of an Empire. It was clear to Martius that his earlier hope that the confusion here was the result of some clerical error was incorrect, and while he still wanted to believe this was all some misunderstanding, that the Galaxy was just as it was when he made the jump to lightspeed out of the Kril'Dor System a few hours ago, somehow he knew that what these people were saying was true.

Still deep in thought, trying to process everything that was going on, Martius took the holocron offered by Master Tabuns without a word; only nodding a few moments later while staring off into space. As Ince To-Lah informed him all the Jedi from his time were dead, Martius stumbled back abit towards the dais and sat down on top of it raising his hand over his mouth as he thought of his friends, and of his former Padawan, and tried to come to terms with the fact that he would never see them again.

Maverick stood nearby similarly dumbfounded, until Master Ka informed him that it was the Clone Army which killed off most of the Jedi and damaged the Order to an extent they never fully recovered from. Looking at the ground, the Clone stated: "No, that...that can't be true" before looking up to state: "My brothers would never betray their Jedi!" Approaching Martius, Maverick continued: "General, whatever's going on here, you have to believe that the men and I would never betray you, or the Republic!"

Standing up and placing a hand on his old friend's shoulder Martius stated: "I know Maverick, I know." After all the battles they'd fought in together, all the times he'd entrusted his life to his men and all the times they'd entrusted their lives to him, it was hard to believe that they'd ever turn on him, even if ordered to by the Chancellor; but then maybe that was the point. Though why would the Chancellor want to destroy the Jedi in the first place? Looking at the holocron in his hand as Master Pilar mentioned it, Martius hoped it would provide him with answers in time, but for now he nodded in agreement as Master Ka suggested they go to the Healers to try and find out how exactly he and Maverick came to find themselves over two hundred years in the future, and replied with a simple: "Thank you" when she stated he could come to her at anytime if he needed anything; then followed the Togruta Master alongside his XO as she led them to the Healers' location...

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Jedi Council
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 367
Founded: Jan 01, 2018
Anarchy

Postby Jedi Council » Mon Jul 02, 2018 12:27 am


The Crucible
General Randar Vedek



General Randar Vedek stood close to the transparisteel windows of the Considerable, his junior officers surrounded him as he paced the length of the conference room he had made his temporary command center. As Chief Commander of the Alliance Military, Vedek nearly always had a circle of aides, subordinates, and advisors circling him, peppering him with comments and questions, and attempting to micro-manage his life.

He hated every single one of them.
Yet, since his investiture some five years ago, Vedek realized that with power comes sycophants. Despite this fact, Vedek prized himself on weeding such poisonous yes men out, and only allowing the finest minds of the Alliance to join his staff. His primary aide-de-camp, Major Arich Hartz, was something of a protege for Vedek. The fastidious and meticulous Hartz was one of the few people Vedek truly trusted, a man of utter discretion, while his Chief of Staff, Jina Pastar, served as gatekeeper and manager of Vedek's busy schedule. Along with a few minor officers and officials, Vedek now observed the crowded space lanes outside of the Crucible. The massive, dilapidated construct was a maze of separate modules and sections, some old and decrepit, others more modern. A large ring, clearly the promenade, dissected the entire station. Outside, a myriad of vessels, ranging from civilian freighters to the massive behemoth that was the Exultation, hung suspended in the blackness of space.

"What a mess," Vedek growled as he turned from the window and back to his officers. "We show up with one ship to a silly renegotiation, they decide to bring their whole damn fleet."

"Grand Admiral Krast is never one to miss an opportunity to look better, Sir," Arich said, as he cleaned up several datapads that were scattered across the conference table. "After her promotion, she now must have a massive target painted on her back."

Vedek nodded. Thankfully, in his military, officers were appointed based on skill, not connections or by politicking. He made sure of it.

As his small corps of officers left the room, Vedek was alone with Arich, where he could finally speak his mind without fear it may make it back to the Chancellor, the man just a few decks up.
"I do not trust them Arich," the General said as he once more peered out the window. "I have spent too much of my life fighting them, fighting tyranny, to ever truly trust anyone that flies the Coalition Flag. The things they have done, the men I have lost, I cannot truly believe they want peace."

"We have had ten years of peace now, Sir," Arich said, finally having stacked all the data pads in his hands. "Perhaps the Concordat really is the way to ensure peace in the Galaxy."

Vedek snorted,
"We were at peace for ten years before. Long ago, before you were born. It took the Jedi Council months to show our leaders we were being duped." The General looked longingly at the ring on his right hand, a bright band of gold almost lost in his graying fur. "And now we do not even have them to rely on."

"Perhaps you are right," Arich said shrugging, as he moved to leave the room. "Either way sir, you are needed in the shuttle bay, the Chancellor will be boarding soon."

Vedek nodded, and waved his aide off. Alone with his thoughts, the old soldier narrowed his eyes as he surveyed the Coalition ships. Dark and ominous, the dagger like vessels always gave the General a sense of foreboding. He had seen them all too often drop out of hyperspace, alongside a hail of turbolaser fire and clouds of fighters. The Exultation in particular drew his eye. The devastator of Eriadu, plenty of Alliance men and women had looked into the sky and seen only the dark shape of the Super Star Destroyer preparing to attack. Few survived if they got that far.

"General," Jina Pastar said over the commlink, "The Chancellor is-"

"I am en route Jina," Vedek replied as he marched out of the room, boots rapping on the floor in even, precise steps. "Tell Commodore Fitilli I will be there soon."
Despite the maze of corridors that made up the flagship of the Alliance Chancellor, General Vedek had long ago learned the routes of nearly every class of vessel in the Alliance fleet. While his own Valiant was more traditional and common MC 140 Scythe Class battlecruiser, the general layout of the Considerable was the same.

As the General passed, any officers that crossed his path saluted the elder Shistavanen, and ere long he had arrived at the bridge. Commodore Fitilli stood at attention when he arrived, as did most of the other officers on the bridge, save for one man.
Chancellor Antilles had the demeanor befitting his ancient and proud family. A young man, the Alderaanian had been swept to power after a cruel assassination of his predecessor, and even then had had a hard time constructing his coalition of Senators. While Vedek admired his bold cabinet choices, himself among them, he had to admit, the man was a politician and politicians could never be trusted.

"Chancellor,' Vedek said, his gruff, deep voice echoing slightly around the circular command deck due to his slightly inclined head, having given only a courtesy nod at his direct superior. "I just had a meeting with Vice-Admiral Hronkar. He says his fleet will be on standby during the negotiations. If things go wrong, we will be ready. Its only a short jump from Kinyen to here, so just give the word, and we can have the 7th fleet here within moments."


Ilum
Grandmaster Kara Ka

After being examined by the healers that remained with the order, Kara had dismissed the other masters, and allowed them to bring the padawans and younglings out of hiding. Master Shan and his XO were given a tour of the dilapidated temple, and shown the now bare crystal cave, as proof of their true location in time. As they began to grow weary of the walking and talking that had been most of their day, Kara lead them to the small niche that would be their temporary quarters. The bunked beds were carved directly into the ice, and the room had few amenities aside from blankets, pillows and a portable heater.

"I am sorry about the state of your quarters," Kara said as she pulled back the small curtain that hid the room from the main Temple. "It really cant compare with the rooms back on Coruscant, but I would assume the Temple you were trained in was even grander than the building I experienced."

As the pair began to unpack their bags, Kara pursed her lips. While on their tour, the Grandmaster had been informed by Master Neloth's technically savvy Padawan, Erta Groth, that her examination of the crashed shuttle had turned up some interesting results, chiefly that one of the most damaged systems aboard what remained of the Liberty was the vessels relativistic shields, the technology that allowed hyperspace vessels to avoid the time dilation effect. Clearly, as they went to light speed soon after being attacked, they had not only traveled through space, but, as was now confirmed, through time.

"Master Shan," Kara said, hands placed in front of her calmly, "Maverick, I have some, troubling, news. My technical specialist had completed her survey of your vessel. It may yet fly after some heavy repairs, but we may have an answer to your lingering question, that being, is this really happening. It would appear that, in the Separatist ambush, your relativistic shields were badly damaged. Your emergency jump to hyperspace succeeded in getting you to your destination, but due to this failure, you also arrived some two centuries late, at the current date."

The Grandmaster allowed that to sink in before continuing.
"I know this must be exceedingly difficult to accept, and I am sure our healers can help you with any issues you may have regarding this sudden shift, but if you have any, any, questions, please, come to me, or to Master Tabuns. Alot has happened since the end of the Clone Wars, and it is in your interest to learn as much as possible about our Galaxy, as, due to the mechanics of space time as we know them, there is no way of getting you back to your previous time period."
"We Are Keepers of the Peace, Not Soldiers"
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Nuxipal
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Postby Nuxipal » Mon Jul 02, 2018 11:50 am

Aryca Sunrider
Taris, Low Orbit



While inserting the coordinates for her first jump, Aryca felt a disturbance. Someone was trying to contact her via the force. It was a strange feeling, no one had done this in a long time. She felt they were on the planet's surface below. She couldn't just leave another force sensitive behind, not like this. She turned her ship around. So far no fighters had been scrambled to chase after her. That was fortunate, she wasn't in the mood for becoming a major criminal simply because of a misunderstanding. She honed in on the source of the force disturbance and responded to it.

If you can hear this, you are in danger just as I am. If you have a ship now is the time. Follow me to these coordinates, from there we will decide our next move.

She sent a series of coordinates through the force connection to whomever it was and proceeded to jump to hyperspace randomly, and then again back into the system on approach to the Rogue Moon in the system's asteroid belt.


She landed at an abandoned facility which had several landing platforms. She closed the helmet on her power armor and proceeded to prepare to meet this potential ally. Additionally, she readied herself to slay someone seeking her harm. Either way, this meeting would not be her end. The ship was left in standby mode, in case she had to make a quick retreat or if the unknown force user came in guns blazing.

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Gerdon Laughis
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Postby Gerdon Laughis » Mon Jul 02, 2018 1:09 pm

Nuxipal wrote:Aryca Sunrider
Taris, Low Orbit



While inserting the coordinates for her first jump, Aryca felt a disturbance. Someone was trying to contact her via the force. It was a strange feeling, no one had done this in a long time. She felt they were on the planet's surface below. She couldn't just leave another force sensitive behind, not like this. She turned her ship around. So far no fighters had been scrambled to chase after her. That was fortunate, she wasn't in the mood for becoming a major criminal simply because of a misunderstanding. She honed in on the source of the force disturbance and responded to it.

If you can hear this, you are in danger just as I am. If you have a ship now is the time. Follow me to these coordinates, from there we will decide our next move.

She sent a series of coordinates through the force connection to whomever it was and proceeded to jump to hyperspace randomly, and then again back into the system on approach to the Rogue Moon in the system's asteroid belt.


She landed at an abandoned facility which had several landing platforms. She closed the helmet on her power armor and proceeded to prepare to meet this potential ally. Additionally, she readied herself to slay someone seeking her harm. Either way, this meeting would not be her end. The ship was left in standby mode, in case she had to make a quick retreat or if the unknown force user came in guns blazing.


Nirvana, Tarisian Undercity

Sesroe meditated quietly in Nirvana. The only sounds around him being Roger's clanking as he calibrated, and the soothing him of the ships engines. At first he was sure the surface forces had made a mistake, taking some conjurer of cheap tricks for a force user as he reached his mind into the void only to find emptiness. However, as he was about to give up hope, he felt clarity as the mind of the other force user established communication. Before he could say anything to the woman, her voice rang through his mind.

If you can hear this, you are in danger just as I am. If you have a ship now is the time. Follow me to these coordinates, from there we will decide our next move.

Again, just as he was about to respond, his mind was flooded with coordinates before his connection went cold and he was left sensing the empty void of the Tarisian Atmosphere. These coordinatesates were to no planet he had been to in recent memory, and the hesitation he sensed in her mind led him to believe this may be a trap.

He opened his eyes to be met with Rogers gaze, and fell backwards at the sight of the droid.

"By the Force! Don't sneak up on me like that!"

The droid let out a laugh and rose to his feet, helping the jedi up. "Apologies sir, I was just trying to meditate too." The Battle Droid had always been interested in how the Jedi acted, seeing that his prime directive used to be killing them, and loved studying Sesroes habits. As the Jedi took the mettalic hand, he used the force to pull himself up and towards his companion.

The droid cocked its head and if it could, would raise an eyebrow. "Contact?"

Sesroe gave a wide grin. "Contact." Remembering the womans warning however, he took on a more firm look. "Apparently we are in great danger. She gave me a set of coordinates," as he spoke he moved to the ships Nav Computer and inserted the Co'ords. "And told me to meet her so we can "Plan our next move", whatever that means."

The droid made his way to the cockpit and clambered over the seat, adjusting the seat to his liking. "So we are meeting her, on her turf, in a place we've never been."

Sesroe grinned once more. "Exactly."

Rogue Moon

As The Nirvana left hyperspace, it was greeted to a sprawling asteroid belt with a Rogue Moon floating through it. As the droid guided the ship through the debris, it led the two towards the abandoned facility.

"There seems to be a multitude of platforms at this facility Sir, where do we go?"

The jedi closed his eyes, and could sense the proximity to the force user. As they made their descent, he guided the craft towards the platform she had landed on, readying himself as Roger safely landed. In his Jedi robes which covered his light atmospheric suit, the Zabrak was also wrapped in a cloak which shrouded his face in a brown hood. His lightsabers at the ready, he looked over as the droid readied his blaster. A standard factory droid, the first thing Sesroe did after fixing him was paint the Jedi Insignia on the droids chest. If the robes didn't prove they are Jedi, that would. And hopefully this wasn't a meeting with the Sith.

"Look alive my friend." As he spoke to the droid, he waved his hand opening the republic gunship's door with the force. As the two set foot on the landing platform, Sesroe put his arms out.

"We're here."
Last edited by Gerdon Laughis on Mon Jul 02, 2018 9:17 pm, edited 2 times in total.

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Nuxipal
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Postby Nuxipal » Mon Jul 02, 2018 6:06 pm

Aryca Sunrider
Rogue Moon, Taris System


The force sensitive arrived in what appeared to be a modified LAAT gunship from the clone wars. A quick scan revealed its weapons operational and that there was only one lifeform aboard the vessel. Thanks to her power armor, she could exit her vessel and meet the other force sensitive in person. She hoped that they had some method of retaining atmosphere or this would be a short meeting. She walked down to the platform and waved a friendly greeting towards the vessel's owner.

She said aloud, and through the force in case he didn't speak basic, "Hello there, I guess you are the mysterious force user who is delaying my search then? What are you doing on Taris, they have some serious prejudice against our kind."

Still feeling a bit uneasy about this whole meeting, Aryca kept her hands visible, but open. She could pull her saber to her hand at the first sign of an ambush. She didn't care if this person was force sensitive. The most dangerous people in galactic history were force sensitive and she wasn't ready to become someone else's path to power.

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Gerdon Laughis
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Postby Gerdon Laughis » Mon Jul 02, 2018 9:16 pm

Nuxipal wrote:Aryca Sunrider
Rogue Moon, Taris System


The force sensitive arrived in what appeared to be a modified LAAT gunship from the clone wars. A quick scan revealed its weapons operational and that there was only one lifeform aboard the vessel. Thanks to her power armor, she could exit her vessel and meet the other force sensitive in person. She hoped that they had some method of retaining atmosphere or this would be a short meeting. She walked down to the platform and waved a friendly greeting towards the vessel's owner.

She said aloud, and through the force in case he didn't speak basic, "Hello there, I guess you are the mysterious force user who is delaying my search then? What are you doing on Taris, they have some serious prejudice against our kind."

Still feeling a bit uneasy about this whole meeting, Aryca kept her hands visible, but open. She could pull her saber to her hand at the first sign of an ambush. She didn't care if this person was force sensitive. The most dangerous people in galactic history were force sensitive and she wasn't ready to become someone else's path to power.


Rogue Moon, Taris System

Sesroe adjusted the mask on his face, the one he definitely put on before leaving the gunship because that is totally a thing he did, and stopped as he saw the woman emerge from her ship. Her voice reached his ears, but also rang through his mind.

"Hello there, I guess you are the mysterious force user who is delaying my search then? What are you doing on Taris, they have some serious prejudice against our kind."

Sesroe gave a slight grin, and slowly turned his hand down, causing Rogers blaster to be moved to the droids hip. The Jedi focused on communicating through the force with the woman, but also spoke to her.

"I am indeed, and you are my Mysterious Stranger. Allow me to make myself less mysterious. I am Jedi Knight Sesroe Xabru. I was taking refuge in the Undercity of Taris, as no one resides there due to the Rakghoul infestation. Almost like hiding right under their noses."

He casually looked around, and slowly began walking foreword, feeling nervous of a potential attack. "I sense your uneasiness. We won't attack. However I am curious as to who you are and what you're aim is, for you are no Jedi I have met."

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Rhinocera
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Postby Rhinocera » Mon Jul 02, 2018 9:17 pm

Kamino

Onboard the Cataclysm


Grand Admiral Derek Krassus stood, looking out from the bridge of the Pellaeon class star destroyer that he had elected to take to Kamino. Typically, he would have been aboard his flagship, the Ascension, but he wanted to keep his visit to the monsoon ridden world quiet. With the Ascension currently in orbit over Fondor, the center of Krassus’ operation, no one would look to find him at Kamino. With the cutthroat politics within the coalition, the less the rest of the galaxy knew, the safer Krassus would be.

Krassus was here for a reason, however, not to remain out of sight. The Kaminoans, being the galaxy’s premier cloners, were a valuable asset. Krassus was here to oversee the delivery of the current batch of clone soldiers, as clones made up the vast majority of Krassus’ storm trooper force. The Kaminoans, while not initially welcoming to the occupation, had warmed to the idea once the revelation that they were to be graciously compensated became known. Not only were the Kaminoans exclusive in their dealings, limiting to Krassus and those he approved of, but they were also among the best paid cloners in existence. After all, quality product wasn’t something that could be forced out of them, so the remaining option was to make their cooperation financially lucrative. As a man with considerable resources at his disposal, Krassus elected to take the aforementioned path to cooperation. Wars, after all, are won by soldiers, and the Kaminoans produced some of the best money could buy.

Despite his presence at Kamino, however, Krassus wasn’t entirely focused on the present affairs. Instead, his mind was on the Carida Concordant and it’s imminet resigning. Having been present at the treaty’s original signing, Krassus saw little reason to be present, personally, for its reaffirmation. The benefits were obvious for both parties, and unless rogue factions within the Alliance and/or coalition actively moved to derail the signing, the treaty would be renewed. Krassus, however, did deem the event important enough to dispatch a representative, an admiral who’s loyalty was beyond doubt, or as close to that as one could find within the ranks of the coalition.

Crucible Station

Admiral Ryan Mathis had served with Krassus for decades, having been an officer onboard Krassus’ first command, the Relentless. He had served with Krassus in some capacity since then, now acting as the Grand Admiral’s trusted 2nd in command. Now, onboard the Relentless (the 2nd of the two Imperious class star destroyers within Grand Admiral Krassus’ fleet, not the destroyer upon which he had first served with Krassus), he had arrived at the Crucible, prepared to act as Krassus’ emissary to the proceedings of the resigning of the Carida Concordat.

The plan was simple, ensure the agreement remains intact. The coalition and alliance had waged war before, and neither side had come out on top. With neither side appearing to have acquired decisive superiority over the past ten years, the same result was likely to repeat itself for now. That was something that could not happen. This peace was not permanent, the very nature of it would bring upon an outbreak of war. However, that time had not come.

As Mathis entered orbit, he saw several vessels. Krast’s Exultation was unmistakable, the most identifiable, as well as one of, if not the most formidable single warship currently in existence. Her presence was no surprise. An opportunity to assert her authority within the Coalition by a show of prestige and power was something that she would not let pass. The flagship of Commisar Shakhar, another individual with considerable clout within the coalition. The logistics mastermind behind much of the machinations that help hold the coalition’s tenuous existence together. Both were influential, though in his own opinion Krast was the more prominent of the two, as well as the most dangerous. The other prominent vessel that was present was an MC160 battlecruiser, a formidable ship in its own right. The Alliance representative no doubt.

Mathis sat aboard the shuttle as it descended towards the Crucible station, having cleared his . The mission, and make no mistake it was a mission, was to ensure these proceedings didn’t implode. He was here because Krassus knew he could trust him not to betray his interests. He was also here because he was a capable man, not one to be trifled with. While he didn’t hold the influence that Krassus, Krast, or Shakhar did, he was still formidable in his own right. If things went wrong however, with this collection of characters, it wouldn’t be to difficult to wind up dead.

As he stepped off his shuttle, he saw the Coalition power players. Approaching them, he stood by them. Not relaxed, but not stiff in his posture. Saluting the Grand Admiral, in accordance with typical military protocol. Despite not being her direct subordinate, he was still ranked under her. Her rank afforded her that respect. It also afforded her the right to speak first, so he remained silent.
Last edited by Rhinocera on Tue Jul 03, 2018 11:32 am, edited 2 times in total.

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Nuxipal
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Corrupt Dictatorship

Postby Nuxipal » Mon Jul 02, 2018 10:12 pm

Aryca Sunrider
Rogue Moon, Taris System


The stranger appeared, and so did a battle droid. An ambush! she thought briefly before seeing her words caused the droid to lower his weapon. The stranger introduced himself as a Jedi Knight. A bit of pain rang in the back of her mind as she remembered her old Jedi Master's face upon realizing she had killed him. She still remembered every moment of that day. The sounds of screaming in the background, and the sorcerer who would eventually become a mentor and close friend. She took a deep breath and moved herself back into the present.

"The undercity is a horrible place. It's a wonder you survived. I was staying with a merchant friend who owes me a few favors, however, it seems he was hoping to turn a profit on my head. I guess I have to pay him another visit in the future. My name is Aryca Sunrider, born on Eshan. I once trained with a Jedi Knight, but he died many years ago now. I have also trained in the more mysterious forms of the force which my master did not teach me. But enough about my past. I am sure that we will have plenty of time later to discuss everything you want to know about me, and what I want to know about you."

She pauses looking nervously towards the droid, "First things first. The force is under attack. Much of the galaxy despises us. It is time we rallied all force sensitives together as a means of protection. If we must be hunted, we might as well make it more difficult for them to kill us all by fighting back. I want to find as many force users as I can for this. I figured Jedi would be the easiest to find, and I was right. Here you are, as you said. Right under my nose. The only question is, do you know where there are more Jedi that I can try and recruit to this cause?"

She looks him over as she speaks to him, looking for signs of disgust or that he agrees with her idea. She doesn't want an ally that will simply stab her in the back. The Sith were known to masquerade as Jedi long ago. It wouldn't be foreign for them to do it again.

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