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Raven Nasra

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Everything posted by Raven Nasra

  1. “You speak of breaking chains, but I see no truth in the statement. These chains bind you still. Even as you kill me they tighten. I know you have heard the platitudes before. I care not for such things, but I look at you and I see a dead man where a live one should walk.” Dig your grave beside mine Lord Mavanger, for you have come so far and have never varied off your destructive course. Even with the many signposts and warnings. So heed me now. There is always repentance and there is always absolution. But you must be the one to choose such a path. Your soul is in your keeping alone. Blame cannot be laid at the feet of Emperors past and present. On shadows, on lost loves, or unbroken chains. That was the mistake of the Jedi of our childhoods.” Her hand touched her own chest, trembling slightly as a finger brushed the wretched knife still buried there. Where blood seeped like oil into the black cloth of her dress uniform. Everything felt distant. Her senses narrowing to fine points like the closing of a theater curtain. "They made their ‘hard choices’ and they blamed those that they killed. They blamed their situations, they blamed orders from above. But they never stopped. No, they were proud of their victory. And in that pride they planted the seeds of Onderon, of Coruscant, of here. But they redeemed themselves in the end. Through toil and forgiveness, work and love. And even as my knights and theirs lay in their own coffins, the tide turns in their favour. Planned or not, your empress’s time is at an end. And you are cast aside like a spent blaster cartridge." Her hand fell back to her side. And she did not have the strength to lift it again. She struggled with a bloody smile and her large eyes stared into his. “Your chains lie within yourself. As mine once did. And there is only one remedy.” She smiled again and was gone.
  2. In the abandoned comms station onboard the bridge, the message from the Constantine rebounded back, unanswered. And deep within the engineering of the command class star destroyer, the last few imperial engineers left alive began a process they had long trained for, but had never dreamed that they would ever have to do. Shaped charges were placed against the antimatter-verilanthrum drives, and after setting a long timer, they began to overload the system. It would prevent the vessel from falling into the planet, and would add yet another explosion to the literal sea of dying ships all around the system. The knife slid between the ribs below her left breast, gliding through muscles and lung to grate painfully against the ribs at her back. She gasped, more surprised than pained. The action ripping her inflating lung through the knife's keen edge. Collapsing it instantly and dumping the air from her breath into her chest cavity. Painful as the seven corellian hells, but not a fatal wound unless it was untreated. But what was that feeling? A pulling at her spirit, and something that she had never felt before in the force. Her eyes looked down to the wound and to the dark crystal that lay pulsing in the handle of the wicked blade. It felt like… So this was the great weapon of the Sith. It was no planet shattering death star like some of the ‘experts’ had predicted, no planet sized behemoth like Ziost. It was a simple and permanent death. She and many she had known had been able to climb out of death before, and the realization hit her with more pain than the little knife could ever give with its dark blade. She had come to the end. She looked back to Mavanger and smiled as the realization hit her. There was nothing to fear. She had done her utmost to bring the galaxy peace and order. She had fought from the age of fourteen in the old stormtrooper corps to establish peace, and she had not stopped fighting the tide of evil since. No matter what awaited her on the other side, she could hold her chin up high, knowing that she had done her best. Though she felt for Kirlocca and Kolchak and all those she would leave behind. And somewhere in the back of her mind those silver bells rang clear and bright. Clanging away like their clappers would fall off, every toll louder than the last. She sat down heavily on the seat of command. Her eyes not registering the blood that was dripping steadily down the cleanly pressed dress jacket. “You aren't mad.” She whispered, her hand gesturing towards where the mad hutts fleet continued it's destructive charge. "That there is madness." She coughed, tasting the little bit of blood that came bubbling up from her pierced lung. Knowing it was dripping from the corner of her mouth, but now was not the time to care about beauty. "You were just deceived." She looked back to the Sith Lord, doing all that she could to give him her full attention. “But speak quickly. I do not know how long your sorcery will take to claim me. And I would like to hear your story to the bitterest of ends.” She smiled again, her white teeth stained with frothy blood. “So tell me your tale of woe. Tell me why I should grieve for what path brought you here. Tell me why your life is worth more than theirs.” Her black gloved hand swept up towards the view screen and the burning planetoid that she had called home since dear Carida had met a similar end.
  3. As the bulkhead doors slid aside, the room seemed to grow cold, as if with the entrance of the Sith Lord, he had let in a breeze. A cold wind stirred the hair that had snuck out from under the thin iron tiara that stretched across her forehead and through her hair. With one look at Lord Mavanger she could feel the very real danger of him. A dangerous anger stretched across every one of his features. And the skin on the back of her neck prickled with the danger of him, but she did not let herself feel it. Fear would do no good here. Death, like every human experience, had to be looked straight in the eyes. She let her gaze linger on his face, scarred, bleeding, wrapped in the guise of rage and anger. It carried a weight with every scar, an inescapable burden, that dragged every feature that could have been handsome or beautiful to ruin. Scars that would have been charming spoke instead of the death of innocent lives, bearing an ugliness that was more spiritual than physical. What man or woman could love such a face? What partner could trust a smile that was more predatory than a rancors? Even the blue eyes, or the one that was not covered in blood, did not carry a speck of joy. And for a man that had sworn away everything in his life except for the revenge on her life, he did not seem the least bit happy for it. What relief was there in murder? Could he climb further in the ranks of the Sith for her death? Or would he be tossed away. Like a sword that had been battered and used, its edges chipped from the combat, to be replaced entirely at the end of a long campaign. To be mounted in a display along with other relics of fading memory. Would he be cruel in victory? Prolonging death even to defilement, letting sadistic urges spoil the relief of a battle won? Letting himself roil like a savage in every delight of victory, letting every ounce of rage be exhausted in the joys of flesh? She did not know. But whatever lay in store, she would hold her chin up high. For the idea she had fostered would not die. With a slow and deliberate movement she handed him her old lightsaber. Hilt first. A hilt she had made herself on the eve of her thirteenth birthday. The last piece of her old life that she had left behind. And perhaps whatever came for her next was the divine punishment for the life she had once lived. But she still needed to save the lives of her crew. “Lord Mavanger, the ship is yours.” She lifted her chin, and her amethyst eyes focused again on the blue of his own. There was no plea for pardon in her eyes.
  4. With a twinge of regret the solace in the back of her mind departed. It was almost sorrowful in its leaving. Shocking in its absence, and disastrous for the future. In its departing wake there was only silence, like the last toll of the church bells on Zinthos which had rung until the silver castings had cracked. The clappers making a hollow and dead sound as the missiles fell from the sky like petals of arathium roses. The same fear that had left her to cower into her mother’s breast, now tricked in behind her ears. The same doubt that she would never see tomorrow, and what a tomorrow it would have been. There would have been lilies in the springtime, and an early morning mass at the cathedral. And peace. Was that what she had fought for so long to achieve? That dream of a frightened little girl screaming into her mother’s skirts? Or the dream of an equally frightened Sith apprentice? Or the crying stormtrooper in a battle she had no control over? Signing her name over the line of a treaty while Jedi and Rebels laughed behind her back? Dooming her people into a government that would never succeed. How that fear had driven her. From senate to rising star of the remnant. From faction leader to claimant to the galactic throne. And how many that stood in her way now lay before her in their graves. Grinning skulls that would welcome her with arms of bone into the fastness of the grave. Her name joining those of Tenebris, Starlisk, Darkfire, Cadan, and Sikaot. Carved in the granite of some war memorial that would be unnoticed a generation from now. The memorial garden used more for picnics and play than for solemn ceremonies. A glance at the readout told her that the fleet battle was going as expected. An orderly loss. And Nar Shaddaa on fire. Billions of lives coming to their end in the city below her. And perhaps that would be her legacy. Another failed rebellion, that resulted in only death and destruction for trillions of lives. Fighting for an idea they couldn’t even define. She had no further legacy than that. She had no children and no claimants to carry her name. Nothing to offer the galaxy but her life. She looked once more towards the viewscreen and the hulking super star destroyer that was outlined against the fiery red of Nar Shaddaa. Then she looked back to her crew. All silent, all standing at attention. She gave them a crisp salute that carried with it the weight of a dozen generations of Imperial officer academies. “It was my pleasure to serve beside you. Please use the aft escape pods. I will not be joining you.” She let the salute drop away, and she walked towards the doors and towards the Sith Lord that waited on the other side.
  5. On the bridge of the black painted Misericordia the Empress stood. Gloved hands clasped behind her, eyes looking at the red outlines of the battle maps. They were equally matched with the long line of blue that marked the edges of their own controlled space, but the sheer number of capital ships on the Sith side caused a trickle of doubt to crawl up her spine. Nesting itself in the base of her skull. She kept her face a statuesque picture of imperial dignity even as she mentally calculated the odds. A white gloved hand placed itself firmly on the back of her neck. The stress disappeared in an instant, and Raven gave her Imperial Knight escort a rueful smile. Then gestured to the flickering streams of turbolasers flashing back and forth. “No better way Cassandra. No better way to meet our fate.” Cassandra shook her head. Her silver visor not betraying a sliver of her emotions. All Raven could feel from her was a sense of calm. “Worry not my lady. The force guides us all, for good and ill.”
  6. The command console that stood beside her bed. Flashed once, then twice, then the lights in her room flashed and ignited into their harsh ‘wake up’ spectrum. But the Empress of the Rebel Alliance was already awake. Her amethyst eyes staring at the viewscreen that pointed towards the moon of Nar Shaddaa, her fingers lifeless and numb as they struggled to button the last button on her stiff black dress uniform tunic. Her fingers struck nerveless by the sudden oppressive weight of the Darkside that flared in the back of her head. She did not even need to look at the display. She had felt the call of the darkside for most of her youth, and the senses of Sith Battlemind reminded her of Gala. That bloody and thoughtless crusade that had killed jedi enough but had also felled the great trinity. But could the Rebel Alliance succeed in such a pyrrhic victory as Gala had been during the last war? Could they dull the blade of the Sith order? Bleed them white for the victory of destroying the Rebel base while the rest of the galaxy rallied to overthrow them in the rear lines? Raven did not know. But she did know that this battle would be her legacy. They were gambling it all on a pair of sixes. Now it was time to wait for whatever the dealer droid would lay face up on the green matted table. But how many civilians would die while the Sith played their own hand?
  7. If she could have stayed in that moment forever she would have. There was a purity in it, a glimpse of a normal life that she had never once even given herself the chance to think possible. Love. Something she had never prepared herself for. So that when she was laying in his arms she could only wish that she could stay in those arms forever. Protected from responsibility, from her choices, and from the weight of that iron crown. A weight that she had never wanted in the first place. But a weight that she could not in good conscience give up. So she lay there as the peace of his love slowly eroded into the worry of the galaxy. Until the arms around her thin waist felt like the only thing keeping her away from a bleak and gray future. But she needed to step into the bleakness again, she knew it and so did he. She looked up and gave him another kiss. A tender one and a sorrowful one. “I love you.” She whispered as silent tears trickled down from her eyes. For it was time to face the day. It was time to dress and prepare for their final stand.
  8. “The galaxy needs us, they need their Jedi Master and their Empress.” She looked up at him, her deep amethyst eyes staring into his dark eyes. She reached up a hand and unbuttoned the topmost button on her uniform. Her eyes never left his as she reached for the next button. Her other hand still holding his. “But perhaps we can leave both of those roles behind. If only for a moment.” And she knew that whatever blissful peace they would find in the next few minutes or hours it would not be lasting. For there was always another thousand things to do, another hundred horizons to see. But for now, she was his. “And once this is all at its bitter end, I will leave the crown behind.” She put one foot out and placed it onto one of the chairs, hauling herself to eye level with the Wookiee Jedi Master. Where she finally kissed him.
  9. Her eyes never left his face as he spoke the calming words that were everything she needed to hear. She reached up her hand and pulled the black cap off her head, letting the shoulder length hair drop out of its pins. She let the cap fall to the table and then brought her hands to one of his, which was resting on her thin shoulder. She lifted it up, marveling at its size and strength as she intertwined her fingers with his. A sad smile crossed her lips and she looked down at her dress uniform in all its imperial stylings. She knew he thought it a mask. Something to deceive him or the galaxy from seeing the true her. But what if it was all that she was? “I don’t think I know who I am under this...” She had been working, training, fighting, leading, and commanding since her teenage years. And before that a slave to a Sith Lord. What was she? What if she looked and found nothing under all the pomp and ceremony? What if she found that same wretched and evil person that she had been all those years ago? She lifted his hand up and placed its palm against her cheek. Feeling its warmth, its love. What if she couldn’t lead this alliance to victory? What if she doomed them all? What of the untold billions that lay in shallow graves because of the mistakes she had led? But the warmth of his hands stilled those fears. The touch of his mind on hers brought her joy, and through the tears she smiled. She let him see everything of her, her past, her hopes and dreams. “...But will you love me anyway?"
  10. As the room began to filter out she slowly edged herself away from the two Imperial Knights who always accompanied her and towards Kirlocca. With every step she could feel some of the stress at the back of her neck start to peel away, and as the last of the higher echelon of the Imperial families made their farewell as was close enough to hug him. Which she promptly did. Embracing him with a firm and loving hug that finally killed the last of the stress that was needling her. He felt so warm, and his fur was so soft, that she almost didn't notice the embarrassed looks from her guard who were gently ushering the queen of Naboo from the room. She ignored them and finally broke off the hug with a smile. “I missed you.” She whispered. Letting the last vestiges of her stern and Empress-like facade drop away. “Thank you for coming and reassuring us, that was very kind.” She sighed and let herself lean back against the edge of the table. “As for what is stirring? I don’t know myself, worry? Tiredness? Love?” She looked up into the black eyes of the Wookiee. “What can you feel?”
  11. Raven felt at that moment that she could have kissed Kirlocca right on his wookiee mouth. It was such a relief and such a victory that a very uncharacteristic smile flash across her face. There would be no great second civil war, the Jedi would not betray everything they worked for, and she would not loose the brave warriors of the Jedi Order in the coming fight. Oh she would have to make this up to Kirlocca. Even though he was speaking purely from his heart and experience, such a feeling of overwhelming love shot through her that the two imperial knights that flanked her on either side flushed with embarrassment. She did not much care for what their thoughts were. This was the future of everyone’s lives. They would learn from the mistakes of the Galactic Alliance, or they would see another century of Sith tyranny. Now how to break it to those few and far in between fleet officers from the old Galactic Alliance. Slaughter, and the rest of them. “Thank you Admiral Kolchak, Master Kirlocca. We may need to rely on your diplomatic expertise to help the old Galactic Alliance Generals and the rest of the Jedi order adjust to what the new government might look like. We do not plan on forcing anyone to give up a democratic life in the local and sector politics. DO you think that will be enough or should we prepare for more dedicated rebellion from the old GA worlds?”
  12. Raven let her eyes close for a moment as she felt the questing presence of Kirlocca in the back of her mind. It was not a strong desiring presence, but one filled with the resolve of a man long experienced in war and conflict. He wanted to see her? She was not great at interpreting the feelings that came quickly and faded just as quick. Could she risk it? Well the Jedi Council would likely find out about this meeting soon enough. And if there was someone that she could trust with giving actual usable advice it was Kirlocca. She let the image of the meeting filter through the force to him. If he wanted to join he would need to be prepared. There were dozens of very grim expressions in the picture. Even the young queen of the Naboo looked concerned. But they also had a different card up their sleeve. They had the son of the Jedi Grandmaster in the ranks of the Imperial Knights. He would also have a good and realistic opinion on the matter of Galactic Government. She whispered instructions to her bodyguard to inquire after young Aidan’s location then turned back to the Admirals and heads of state. “We have seen the evils of the Jedi order in our lifetimes. I saw the ruin of Kuat when the rings fell, when Coruscant was left a slagged mire of duracrete ashes during the last civil war. But I should warn us about this. Those Jedi are not the Jedi we have beside us in this fight. They are not the genocidal maniacs we faced before the battle of the last death star. The last of those died at Coruscant.” They would need to watch them like a hawk. But surely they were not enslaved to the idea of a democratic government right?
  13. A familiar presence prickled at the back of her mind. A presence that was both reassuring and strong. The presence that had bounced in and out of her life since she had been a young woman after the battle of the Last Death Star. A jedi master, and the only one that had attempted to assist the Imperial Remnant after Carida had been set ablaze by Sith Turbolaser fire. Kirlocca. It almost brought a smile to her face to feel him in the back of her mind, even as she could feel the pain from his grievous injuries taken in the disastrous mission to Sullust. Another painful reminder that the Sith had no mercy on their adversaries. Using what force powers that she had trained, she gave his mind a nudge. A truthful nudge, and one that she had been pondering from the moment she had heard he had died on Carida. She loved him. She did not know how to properly convey such a thing. Cassandra and Tiana had never taught her much about force projection. One mainly focusing on defense, and the other on the brutal offense of a Sith. So she did her best, envisioning a soft and affectionate hug, then an equally soft but more affectionate kiss. Raven did not know if that reached the Wookiee Jedi. But she hoped that it did. She blinked then looked back to the meeting. The Naboo queen spoke well, with a passion that reminded Raven of her own childhood. The girl was lucky that she had turned her passions towards an egalitarian path. One that would help the galaxy should they win the upcoming war. They would need her passion in the years to come. She gave the queen an incline of her head. Filing away the girl’s name in a possible list of successors, should that be needed. Next came Kolchak. A good man, and one with the thickest accent she had heard since her time in the far outer rim. He was an effective field commander, if not an effective orator. She had never been good at making speeches herself, so she did not begrudge him his presentation. “Thank you for your report Admiral. The security of Mon Calamari and its shipyards are a priority going forward. May I ask about the populations of Mon Calamari and Outer Heaven? Are they faring well after we brought them their freedom? Your point is also well noted. We must maintain a strong military and a quick reaction force when the galaxy is restored to Order. We will never again allow the foolishness that the Galactic Alliance followed. Their military men and commanders were finer than that government deserved. Wasted through forced retirements and decommissioning.” She shook her head. Thinking of the great admirals of the old New Republic. Many had died over Ziost, as the planet swallowed them whole. The rest to their own superlaser strike. The only survivors forced into retirement. Great names such as Cadio and Slaughter being put to ground in the shakeup of the new government. Only to be called back when it was far far too late. Her amethyst eyes next found the solid brown of Beck Pilion’s. A man she did not fully know, though they had both nearly grown up together under Emperor Deton. They had both been commandos in the old Imperial Military, though they had never served together in that capacity, she trusted him like no other in the room. A man from the ranks. Someone who had climbed every step of a very long ladder. She knew he would speak when he desired so. And gave him an encouraging smile in case he needed it. Then she looked back to the room. “So then, how do we make the desires laid out by this group known to the rest of the Rebel Alliance? Even those from the old Galactic Alliance and the Jedi Order deserve to know what they are fighting for. They have spilled their blood alongside us for nearly two years.” She tapped her gloves together, then looked back up. “I do not think they will object. They have learned the same lessons that we have. A strong central power needs to rule the galaxy. And on the local level life will not change for the democracies such as Corellia. If you have names of who we should invite into our company, and who would be best suited to helping those that hope for a return to the old galactic alliance, to know that their dream is long dead, it would be appreciated.” The Jedi also needed to be involved. In her long talks with the representatives of the Jedi Order, she knew that their philosophy did not need a republic to function. But would they accept such a radical change from their roots? The old Jedi Order had been a reminder of how ineffective they had been to allow the Sith to grow to such power that they were now consuming worlds. But they were under new leadership, under a new council that had only ever known the Imperial Remnant as a friend. Well at least some of them did. “And what of the Jedi Order? Do you think they would oppose us in this? I do not want to win a war to only be embroiled in a civil war.”
  14. “I want the message to be clear. No-” She paused for a moment before looking back at the group of leaders who packed the stateroom of the Red and Black. “-I want it to be damn clear.” She pointed to the list of planets that scrolled down the holoform that was projected on the wall. “We will end the vile practise of slavery with blaster and bayonet. Ryloth was only a test. We may not be embraced with open arms in every corner of the galaxy, but when we take power-” She motioned to the galactic map, who’s spiraling arms were divided into sectors of garish coloured light. “-It is not an if. It is a when. That will be the galactic law. You own another sentient being in chattel slavery and you will be executed. Your assets confiscated and given to your victims.” She raised her hands as if to surrender. “Now this policy will not make us friends with the hutts…” The group of uniformed men and women laughed. “But we do not want to be friends with them. We will purge their kind from every hole they may try to bury themselves into.” She sighed, then looked back to Prince Alcarne, who stood in the regal blues of Outremer. Who stood alongside the other minor rulers of the Alliance. Baris Kailfreng of Montressor, and the well fed Count Rentor of Serenno, standing behind him. The other more democratic members being mostly noticeably absent from this meeting. As were the brown robed Jedi knights… But that would be the way of the galaxy. The great Democracies had ruled the Galactic Alliance. The had had their time in the sun, and had left the galaxy a bitter ruin. The very seat of democracy unceremoniously left to burn while its citizenry died by the trillions. Never again would such weakness be left as the guardian of the People. No. The galaxy needed a strong central power. Advised by the planetary and system governments, but not run by them. They would make up the government, its governors, its stewards. But decisions would not be up to some senate. Never again. The People and their safety would come first. Not some bureaucrat with forty years of experience voting himself money. There would be a place for democracy. Any planet that wanted to maintain theirs would be allowed to keep it. And those with monarchies and despots would keep their own forms of government. But Galactic matters would be handled by the council of governors and the Crown. And it was in this room that the influential members, those that provided military forces to the Alliance. Were discussing the general Constitution of the coming government. Even if it was a theoretical document. For there was still a war to be won. Raven finished her speech with another diatribe regarding slavery, then bowed to the youngest member in the room.
  15. ((Hey there @Moff LurgI am Empress Raven Nasra, the Faction Leader of the Rebel Alliance and its Imperial Remnant subfaction. Beck asked me to assist so I am here to give some strategic out of character advice to you. This will also venture into character writing and the collaborative writing we foster here on this Website. You are new so don’t take this as a beatdown, but you need to follow this advice to thrive here. Scenarios like the test you were just given are very long and drawn out things, you need to give them time to breathe. Post the actions or response your character may have then wait for the other person to respond. While you are in training at least we want you to take your time with things, learn how stuff works here. You need to not post the actions of other characters and NPCs in a scenario until you are told that you can. (This will come with rank promotion) When you can, you must use them respectfully in a PVP or PVE scenario. Which would mean not posting the actions of your enemies or how your attacks land. We are attempting to train you to be able to survive in the pvp world of the Jedi RP galaxy. I hope this makes sense. Please try the scenario again from the beginning, keeping in mind that you cannot post the actions of the battle droids, you cannot post if your attacks land, and that you cannot godmode your way through a scenario. Anticipate this taking several rounds of posting between you and your training officers.)) Raven pulled the dark cap off her head, smoothing her black hair with a brush of her hand as she stepped through the doorway into the observation room. Her pale eyes glanced across the soldiers and then finally to Beck himself. Her eyes carried a weight in them, a tiredness that had not been there a decade before when they had first met. The weight of a long and failing war. “It is good to see you Admiral.” She attempted a smile that she felt in her heart, but her face only gave a half hearted attempt. This war was drawing to its zenith, and they all knew it.
  16. Raven inclined her head then looked back up to the Jedi Grandmaster. Amethyst eyes met the grey green in a moment of understanding then she looked back down at her own hand. A metallic object, covered in the soft black leather glove that she had worn since she had only been a child. A long and bitter career. But not one totally fruitless. She had found love after all, and that had to account for something. “My people are here, I will not abandon them to destruction and despair. I will be aboard the Command Ship. ” She would die alongside Nar Shaddaa if it came to that. The Sith would pay the heavy toll of this conquest. She let a small smile creep into the sides of her mouth. “Plus if we manage to defeat the Sith here and end their empire, perhaps it would be better to not see all of the work we put in fall to the inevitable infighting.” She shook the woman's hand. “May the force be with you Grandmaster. Now let us see to the evacuation.”
  17. Raven tapped the obsidian countertop with a gloved finger. There was no reason to bring up the atrocities that she had seen as a child. Those same atrocities that had motivated her to join the military and subsequently the Sith order during the reign of what she had considered a “good man” Emperor. An emperor that had died early enough in his tenure that she had never seen the results of what a good person in charge of an Empire could be like. So in the wake of the disastrous reign of the Galactic Alliance, she had decided to become that good empress. And how had it fared? The Remnant had been there for the remains of the Galactic Alliance military and the Jedi Order to flee to. But still this was not the time for this. The next few weeks would make or break their rebel alliance. The only question was how many innocents would die for their chance to break the Sith Empire. “I do not speak of Admiral Slaughter who has long ago earned my respect. He remains one of the few competent fleet commanders to survive the collapse of the Galactic Alliance. He and my own Admirals will be in charge of this operation.” She looked up from her desk to the older woman. Deciding a little humility and openness was better than a false front. “This operation will make or break us. There is no in between. Either we win or we loose. I know we do not stand on the same side ideologically, but I want to thank you for being here. It means a great deal. I put my full trust in your plans.”
  18. Raven shook her head, a single strand of dark hair coming undone from her braid with the gesture. Which she furtively tucked back behind her ear before tapping one of the medals on her chest. It was made of a dark metal, three red lines running through the eight pointed star. A battle mark, and one of the most shameful moments of her short career as a Sith apprentice. “Not Gala.” Her eyes told the story more than her words. The last act as an apprentice to a jealous master. The defeat and murder of a Jedi Knight. A crime which she had been pardoned for in the aftermath of the Last Death Star battle. As had many young surviving imperial officers in the ranks of Deton’s fallen empire. But the fight still haunted her, a thing unforgiven, and something she would take to her grave. Much like her cybernetic arm. A reason to never touch the living force again. “My lady…Grandmaster” She said, her voice taking the dark tone of emotion. “We cannot gamble with lives. The Red and Black will fall. The spaceworks as well. But we cannot pretend that falling starships will not affect the cityscape. Should they bring the Black Scarab into orbit and we have the luck and force to destroy it?” Such a thing could break the moon in half. And kill the millions of inhabitants before they even got a chance to see an explosion. “I suggest we keep the fighting over Nal Hutta, let the debris fall to that rotten and uninhabited world. Not in orbit of Nar Shaddaa. We should strike where they are weakest, but please let us spare the moon. Alive in the captivity of the enemy is better than death. At least for the innocents moonside."
  19. There was a bitterness there that Raven could feel deep within herself. They were both survivors of the long galactic war of Raven’s childhood, and each carried the weight of that war. The grandmaster through her hardset stern expression and gentle lines of age. Raven through her own wounds. A blaster burn in the stomach from Coruscant, a long thin line in her scalp from Piccolo’s vibrosword over the Death Star. But they both carried scars from the most recent wars. The slight twitching in Raven’s biological hand betrayed the intense nerve damage from Sith and Black Sun interrogation. An interrogation the Jedi had fought to rescue her from. Upon reflection. They had more in common than Raven had originally thought. Draygo and Kirlocca were the last remaining Jedi from the era of Starlisk, Durron, and Ara-Lai. While Raven and her Moffs were the last Imperials from the days of Dark, Dagon, and Phillep. A people who could never have imagined that they would be walking arm in arm into a brighter future. Or at least that was the great hope of this Rebel Alliance. So in that reflection she smiled. A smile that very quickly died at the grandmaster’s news. “It was only a matter of time.” They had operated in the open for years out of this backwater world which they had brutally freed from slavers. And such a thing could only escape the Dark Lord’s eye for so long. “I trust your wisdom Grandmaster. You have my fleet and the resources that the imperial side of the Alliance can muster. We will begin the evacuation of the central government and the schools immediately. Followed by the refugees.” It would have to be orderly, otherwise the Sith would know of their panic and exploit it. “Do we have worlds that can take refugees?” There was one, the Bastion, that had been unfound by the Sith in the midst of old Remnant space. “And if you can tell me of these opportunities that you foresee, I am sure my Knights would be most interested.”
  20. “My lady…” The blind inquisitor made a steep bow before Raven, who returned the bow with a polite nod of her head. The Imperial Remnant’s Empress stood and adjusted her uniform which was a dark black admiral’s uniform. THe left breast of which was covered in the thin lines of campaign badges, dating back to before the galactic alliance. The battle of Coruscant, the battle of the spire, The Sith Trinity’s raid at Gala, Csilla, then the last Death Star. Symbols of a long and bitter career. The marks of a long and dreadful defeat. A mark of the work that had been put in to build this Rebel Alliance. A place where long enemies had become friends. But there was honour written in the long lines of ribbons, the honour of an Idea. An Empire of conscience. An egalitarian autocracy. A place of peace for a galaxy that had seen nothing of it in a decade. She adjusted the black glove that fit over her prosthetic arm, a gift from her old master during the reign of the Sith Lords. A gift for which she had paid dearly. “Please show her in.” The Imperial knight bowed again and opened the sliding door. And Raven curtsied in the imperial fashion before extending her hand in greeting. The woman was wearing Knight armour which gave made Raven’s eyebrows raise in confusion. “Welcome Grandmaster, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
  21. The empress’s eyebrows raised a millimeter in surprise at the request. “From a Logistics standpoint I would encourage you to use blasters. While this is a diverse group of Rebels I cannot promise you will have access to whatever exotic weaponry you are used to, and Logistics cannot hope to provide you replenishment for the weapons on long deployment.” The message in that was clear. Even if was said in the least harsh way she could think of. The weapons of the outer rim, especially slug throwers and scatterguns, were inadequate for a long war. And she could not afford to have independent operators in a warzone. She had long ago been a part of the Logistics division in Deton’s Empire, before the battle of the last death star, when even young and inexperienced soldiers like her had been thrown into the meat grinder. “Your armour is another story, you may have access to the workshops in the base as well as here on the Misericordia. We have access to most durasteel and plastoid variants, as well as the alchemical resources to make advanced composites. Does that serve?”
  22. The empress stood like a statue in her dark uniform of black and grey. Her eyes reflecting the bright lights and dark shadows of the landing bay in various shades of deep purple. A royal purple, that tyrian purple of the ancient galaxy. She stood in the midst of three guardsmen who dwarfed her height, towering over their empress, as terrifying as Varangians and gentle as the slopes of Naboo. They were Imperial Knights, the fist of the old Remnant. A holdover from the schism and ruin that had befallen the Jedi order little more than five years before. Their faces, much like their empress’s, carried the scars of the long war. Though her’s were hidden under her long gloves and dark crown. The crown was of darkened durasteel, a heavy and yet elegant piece. Forged in the fires of dying Carida. When the old IMperial Worlds rose in rebellion against the ill fated Galactic Alliance as the Sith swept in ruinous abandon over the outer rim. Millions had died in those fires. As Sith warships dropped death from the sky in the form of brilliant green turbolasers. They had sworn their vengeance then, and the Imperials of Carida, now sequestered on the small world of Nar Shaddaa, would have their long victory. They had seen a great alliance fall, they had seen worlds cracked and ruined, they had seen Jedi Knights butchered in the streets of Iziz while the holocameras ate it up like mid afternoon dessert. The Old Empire, that of Deton and Dagon was alive and well, waiting for its time of glory. When they could hunt the Sith Lords into bitter extinction and finally have the peace that had been promised at the end of the last civil war. But this old empire flew the red phoenix of the Rebel Alliance. Not a deception, but a compromise to those that had fled to Nar Shaddaa when Coruscant fell. There would be no more republic with its inbuilt weaknesses of democracy, that was the promise of the crown of steel. But Nar Shaddaa was an example of the egalitarian nature of the new Rebel Alliance, work for all, jobs, and care. But no democracy. At least not yet. The Empress inclined her head in a formal recognition of the Alliance Militia led by Vox and the Jedi Knight who was still in his flight fatigues. She and the Queen embraced, the formal embrace of royalty. Kissing each other on the cheek before the Queen took her place at her side. “Jedi Apprentice Vox and Jedi Knight Jackson.” The Leader of the Rebel Alliance said. Her voice soft but powerful, carrying easily to where both of them stood. “You have done well, you deserve the recognition of the Rebel Alliance. And though we do not have much to offer here on the flagship, I can offer this.” One of the Imperial Knights, a man with a long grey beard and the face of a warrior strode forward to first Vox and then jackson. On each he pinned the Medal of Valor. The ribbon a dark red that contrasted wonderfully with the shining silver of the medal. “You have the thanks of the Rebel Alliance. Vox for rescuing the Queen of the Naboo, and Jackson for the freeing of the Naboo Starfighter wing. You have helped us at much personal cost, for which we are eternally grateful. Now get some rest if you can, there are rooms prepared for you.” She turned to go, but then looked back at Vox. "And Vox, I have heard from our advanced scouts that your Master did survive." She left off the 'Just Barely' for the apprentice would likely have already felt the extent of the wounds of his master.
  23. Nar Shaddaa Space Command hailed the Naboo starship piloted by the Jedi Apprentice Vox and his tribe. “Sir, you have been given landing clearance to reserve bay three on the Misericordia. The Empress wishes to meet you and the Queen of the Naboo. Please make your way there as soon as possible.” The hailing frequency died away. And hailed Jackson and the surviving pilots of Naboo Gold Squadron. “Knight Jackson, you are also bidden to the Misericordia. Thank you.” For even though Naboo had fallen, the Empress would congratulate those that had fought so well.
  24. (((Worldbuilding notes: you will see a lot of references to the Imperial Remnant, an institution that largely no longer exists in name within the Rebel Alliance and now Sovereign Knight. However, most of the old imperial families and military that did not experience the disastrous end of the Galactic Alliance still consider themselves as the ‘Imperial Remnant.’ The Rebel Alliance is largely led by these Imperial Families, and the leader of the Rebel Alliance herself is the Empress of the Imperial Remnant. The Rebel Alliance is named such for convenience, and no one should think that should the rebel alliance win their war, that they would return to the democratic institutions that led the Galactic Alliance to its doom. The Imperial Remnant remains a monarchical and authoritarian government.)) Background and the Imperial Diaspora The Imperial Remnant was formed during the waning years of the Galactic Alliance from a small cluster of Ex-Imperial Worlds who saw the rising threat of the Sith in the Galactic Rim and the GA’s inability and disinterest in dealing with the rising tide of evil. A splinter group of the Jedi Order, led by Jedi Master Kyrie joined them in a private crusade against the Sith. Swearing loyalty to the Empress and forming the original Imperial Knights. The Imperial Remnant were naturally one of the first sectors to be targeted in the aftermath of the destruction of the Galactic Alliance, and one by one the Imperial Worlds fell. First Carida, then Kuat. Their populaces dispersed to the dual worlds of Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta, which had been conquered by the Imperial Remnant some years before. There the Imperial Government in Exile continued, its once proud Moffs and noble families reduced to little more than subsistence as the Imperial Remnant struggled to survive and incorporate the surviving command structure of the Galactic Alliance to form the Rebel Alliance. This brought many changes to the Imperial Ruling class, and they worked together to help augment what they saw as the last surviving remains of their society. Imperial Government in Exile With very few worlds, there was not a reason to maintain the expensive Moff’s Council, but they maintained their ranks, without salary. Those Moffs and “Imperial Elite” who had long kept their children and heirs from military or Jedi recruitment quickly began to send their force sensitive children to the Imperial Knights, to both serve the remnant of the Empire, and to receive the societal bump that having a family member “in the Knights” would give. Dozens of high imperial families dug deep into their cadet branches, pulling children legitimate and otherwise from high society and universities, and placed them into the Knights. Having buy-in from all imperial families was important for the Empress and the Imperial Knights, so recruitment stipends are paid to imperial families that could provide a child or adult to the Knights. With titles and additional stipends paid to families that could provide more than one. As such the ex Moffs and high Imperial Families, began a long campaign to find and adopt force sensitive children and young adults, give them an ‘imperial’ education and then send them to the knights. Their Role Much as the Jedi Order were the guardians of Democracy in the Old Republic, the Sovereign Knights see themselves as the guardians of the people. Their oath binds them to the people of the galaxy through their leader the Empress. As such, they serve with distinction alongside Imperial and Alliance soldiers in an effort to rid the galaxy of the Sith. They search throughout the galaxy to eliminate the evil of the Sith, including within the government structure of the Sovereign Alliance. The Knights A diverse though mostly humanoid group, the Sovereign Knights represent the makeup of the high families and academic institutions of the Remnant. The majority of the original Imperial Knights represented the schismatic Jedi sect that broke off during the Galactic Alliance. Now seen as a representation of the Imperial Remnant within the Sovereign Alliance, the newest members of the Knights are mostly human or aliens of higher learning that have been adopted by Imperial Families. The Vow I shall speak no dishonesty, only truth. I shall serve not myself, only others. I shall seek no evil, only honor. I shall follow no false master, only the Empress. I shall suffer no Darkness, only the Light. Classes Sovereign Paladin (Jedi Guardian Equivalent) -The archetypical warriors and protectors of the Imperial Knights, the inspiring individuals who follow this path embrace the path of the saber and stand as a bulwark before the people and any threat that would assail them. A few unfortunate enemies have mistaken the Paladin's more focused approach for simplicity, to their regret. Those who challenge one, thinking the honorable warrior will be easily duped, often find themselves instead engaged with a keen mind trained by the best military tutors of the Remnant's most prestigious war colleges. However, despite this training, Paladins avoid taking military command except in the most dire circumstances. They understand the danger their Force abilities pose, as well as their vulnerability to corruption. As such, the muddy, moral grays of military command are not suited to those who must always remain honorable and pure or risk falling to the Dark Side. Sovereign Hawk (Jedi Sentinel Equivalent) (Previously called Bailiffs) -Evolving out of the officials Moffs employed to solve complex legal/political issues, the Imperial Hawks are the investigators of the Imperial Knights. Preferring more subtle and even mundane approaches compared to the Paladins or Wardens, the Hawks employ a mix of both combat and Force techniques, often with a focus in heightened perception and information gathering. It falls to them to suss out the truth of corruption, and they are quickly called on when the taint of the Dark Side is suspected to be involved. Hunting holocrons and other traces of the Sith are where they thrive. Despite the reputation for cloak-and-dagger that lowlifes have assigned them, Hawks are as honorable and dedicated to their oath as any other knight, performing their work dutifully and properly. If they remain unnoticed, that is likely because they are simply that good. Sovereign Executor (Jedi Consular Equivalent, previously known as Wardens) -Where the Paladin defends the people of the Imperial Remnant from direct threats to their safety, and the Bailiffs root out the more subtle corruptions of evil and the Dark Side, the Imperial Wardens fight to safeguard the people from the truly strange menaces they could never understand. The sages, seers, and scholars of the Imperial Knights, the Wardens delve deep into the mysteries of the Force, forgoing all but the basics of martial prowess. In place of such training, they spend their time poring over records or in meditation, hoping to gain just a little more understanding of the threats they may face and the tools they'll need to fight them. When tainted sorcery, Force-imbued artifacts, or abominations of the Dark Side are suspected to be involved, it is the Wardens that are called in to bring their knowledge to bear on the situation. Ranks Squire - An apprentice of a Knight. A knight may have several squires, including non force sensitive squires that are there to learn academically from the Knight. Knight - A squire who has shown themselves to be worthy of advancement by a council of nobles Noble - A knight who has shown great valour in battle or equivalent in their field. They carry the prestige of their rank with them. Playing a Sovereign Knight It should be noted that playing an Sovereign knight is not “I want to play a grey jedi” but is instead playing another aspect of the light side of the force. In contrast to the sexless expression of the Jedi seen in the prequel trilogy, A Sovereign knight is encouraged to have a family and roots within High Sovereign society. In fact a Sovereign Knight will likely be the target of a multitude of suitors from rival and allied Sovereign Families in order to progress their families interests in court. -Document compiled through the joint work of Delta, Nyrys, Edelmor, Leena, and Kyrie
  25. A long series of flash communications came streaming into the wide sensor dishes that sat in orbit above Nar Shaddaa and Nal Hutta. They were decrypted and sent with priority to officers all over the net. Mobilization orders to reserve fleet elements and special forces units on RR rotation. One message came in for the Moffs council, ordering mobilization of the shipping fleets for use in refugee movement. Another comm came for Beck, loyal servant of the Imperial Remnant. He was to mobilize to assist in the restoration of Mon Calamari, then prepare for action in the deep core. The Rebel Alliance would not stop its momentum, especially as innocent worlds like Naboo fell to the Sith Empire.
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