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Alekseyev stayed utterly silent as he listened to the monologue of the Grandmaster. She had interesting and modern views on the force. They were not his views, he had seen the force work wonders of redemption and destruction through only the slightest whim of a master or lord. It gave its strongest and most destructive powers to those that would lean into the pursuit of power and passion. The force was in some senses symbiotic, but its temptation was that of power and malice. Much as with her lover, Alekseyev let his mind be carried with hers, looking through every word that she said for the tinge of heresy and darkness that could be there. When he found the dark ley lines of passions he lay them before him in the circle. Connecting every shadow to rings in the circle. Laying them out to be bare and naked before the inquisitive light. Hate, Anger, Lust. Powerful dark emotions that boiled, suppressed below the surface.. He was about to speak for her to continue when another voice spoke. Battering at his concentration like a stiff wind. 

 

She speaks her truth! 

 

And she did, it was not much further apart from the Knight’s own teachings. 

 

Temptation is the natural order of any mortal being 

 

The voice was calm and inaudible. Coming only through both of their connections to the force. It was a voice that carried with it a weariness of a man at the end of his life, and an accent that dated the voice back to the days of Revan and the old republic. A time in which the force was commanded by the Sith and Jedi in their ancient battles that rocked the galaxy more than even the current lords of the Sith could even dream. The time of the Exorcists, the time of Il-Andon Rorik, to whom the voice belonged. He had been there when Kyrie and Xae-Lin flow walked into the past and with his Holocron present before Alekseyev and Adenna he was here as well. 

 

Temptation is Human. It is the will fighting against its conscience. The Darkside lies in surrendering to that temptation. To destroy darkness is not to commit oneself to the darkness itself. Serenity and the denial of love is the abandonment of the fullness of good. The concern lies in if you harbour those temptations, if you turn them into fantasy and play with them in the darkest watches of the night. 

 

Alekseyev let the force flow through him, drawing on that voice, focusing on it and connecting it to the circle. The circle and its runes began to glow in earnest as he connected them all through the force. Lines laying over lines, passion over anger, light over dark. 

 

The voice spoke again, sounding as if he stood between them, directed at the Jedi Grandmaster. 

 

Pursue not this crusade with relish or lust for revenge . For it will cause much longsuffering.  Pursue it because it is right.

 

There was a pause

 

Darkness must be vanquished. But it will cost you everything.

 

Alekseyev let his concentration relax. The Inquisition had reached its logical conclusion and the holocron would speak no more. 

 

“There is no will of evil in you grandmaster, though the opportunity lurks. Our causes are not altogether separate, we both wish to destroy the Sith. While also not committing egregious errors that have happened in the past.” 

 

He stood, and offered her a hand up. 

 

“I cannot advise you on your path, but many of us would be glad to work hand in hand with the Jedi order once again.” 


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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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Beth let the smile drip off her face like hot caf as the watched a Rebe- Galactic Alliance officer head their way, carrying of all things a pike staff. She nodded her thanks to the two Jedi and saluted the incoming alliance pilot before extending her non injured hand in greeting. Her imperial flight suit would tell this red faced man all he would need about her combat experience. The Imperials had been fighting the Sith since before the Galactic Alliance had gotten its lazy ass in gear. She did not care the slightest what species he was, even though he seemed ashamed. 

 

“Beth Andromina, Templar squadron commander, formerly of Carida, then Kuat, then here. Sith eh? A good one looks like it. Seems like everyone but myself is a jedi around here, but you are on safe ground. Not need to haul a vibropike around. Might scare the non commissioned officers into shooting someone.” Her laugh was kind, though very tired. “X-Caliber squadron? Never heard of it, from the name I assume you fly X-wings?” 

 

It was a friendly jab that only pilots would make to each other, though it might come off hostile to the younger jedi. 

Andromina

Rebel Alliance Fleet Command - Lieutenant

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Sandy suppressed the wholesome feeling of pride in Aidan as he talked about dealing with his trauma and turned it into a smile in return to Aidan’s glance. Then she looked back at the blaster on the table and picked up an energy magazine for it and fiddled away, trying not to be too awkward while she waited for their intimate conversation to end.

 

She hoped this would help him, she hoped that a connection with his parents would start to heal the wounds he carried so heavily.

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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Adenna accepted the offered hand and rose to her feet. The Force levels in the room began to dispel and return to normal. Despite the relative shortness of the experience, she was drained. Even so, she was inwardly pleased at the results. Though she had been confident that she would pass the trials, there was a very small amount of her that was concerned that there was a lingering taint from Jidai Geki that might still need purging. She was relieved that it seemed her inner demons had been removed and all that she faced were the normal temptations experienced by everyone.

 

She was also pleased at the openness of at least these men to working with the Jedi Order once more. Their cynicism was quite evident in her recent interactions with various members of the Imperial Knights in how they viewed the Jedi Order with disdain and skepticism. When they first left the Order, she had thought that it was only a bad thing as it divided able warriors who could oppose the Sith, but she understood it when faced with Jedi leadership that refused to fight against evil. That was not the case now and it would never be for as long as she was the Grandmaster. It was time to heal that rift and bring back all those who served the Light under one unified banner to oppose the Dark that the Sith championed.

 

She nodded in acceptance of the Inquisitor's words. "It is my desire to bring the Imperial Knights back within the Jedi Order so that we may fight our common enemy as one unified force. Divided, we are both weaker and the Darkness is made stronger. This is something that I wish to remedy so that we, like the Galactic Alliance and Imperial Remnant, might become one once more. I understand and respect the unique nature of the oaths you take, so I would happily make accommodations to preserve the Knight's teachings and traditions. Speak to your leaders and relay what you have learned here, then tell them that I wish to meet with them to see if we can come to an agreement that would add the strength and discipline of the Imperial Knights to the history and resources of the Jedi Order."

 

The Grandmaster bowed briefly to the Imperial Knights, collected her lightsaber, and exited the room with purpose in her steps. She couldn't control how the Imperial Knights took her message, but she had made the first move to bridge the gap and end the schism that exists between them.

 

It had cost her dearly in the form of Tobias, but her personal sacrifices were necessary for the betterment of the Jedi Order and, on a wider scope, the Galaxy in general. She had lost her right hand, but her hopes were that it would gain her an army of battle hardened warriors ready to stand against the Darkness and do what was necessary. Perhaps, in time, even Tobias could be redeemed and rehabilitated to return to the fight once more, though she suspected he had his own plans to wage the war against the Sith.

Adenna Sig

 

Send PM's to Travis.

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Draygo had been withdrawing into herself after the loss of Coruscant. And then, with experiencing the aftershock of the deaths of billions, the fragmentation of the Galactic Alliance, and the loss of so many of her friends, Armiena had been shunning contact with others. That emotional armor allowed her to attack the seemingly insurmountable crises with increasing ruthlessness, but the gradual chipping away at her defenses with time had nearly resulted in an explosive release of frustration at Dark Sun.

 

And with the mental touch of her son, those defenses finally gave way and the storm that was her spirit finally flooded over. There was sincerity in his touch: not just love for his family, but also pain at the fact that he had never quite been able to bond properly with his father. She hadn’t expected the glowing regard that her son held for her, even after the many mistakes that she had made over the years. She held on tight, and her shoulders shook with silent tears.

 

When Armiena could finally bring herself to extract herself from the hug, tears were flowing freely from her pale-green eyes.

 

“He… was a good man.” Draygo looked off to the side and her eyes focused on something a kilometer away. It may have merely been the dull ache in her shoulder from the healing dislocation, but it physically hurt to force herself to speak of Aryian in the past tense. “Sometimes difficult to understand, bit too comfortable with his own mortality for my liking,” her lips twitched in a weak attempt at a smile. “But… he was better than I sometimes gave him credit for. I wish I could see him again.

 

“He loved us, even if it was sometimes difficult for him to express it.”

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I nodded my head in the direction of the Jedi that had been spending time with Master Armiena's son, as well as Aiden, before exiting the room. Despite having been summoned, I felt my presence here was a bit intruding, so I opted out of the encounter. In truth, it was just good to see her smile after hearing stories of her son. 

 

Just outside, I found an ammunitions crate to prop up on, taking a small device I had acquired back on Borleias out of my pocket and placing its comms into my ear as a ambiance melody began to play through its connection. The Doctors back on Borleias used these inexpensive devices to help calm their nerves and steady their hands, and while meditation would likely do the same for me, I felt it best if I couldn't hear the on going conversation between the two taking place. As much as it was intrusive, it was also rude of me to eavesdrop.

 

On occasion, my glance would wander back to them, but for the most part, I delved into small meditations while I enjoyed the sounds of waves upon sandy shores and the chirping of forest birds resounding within my ears. When Master Armiena was ready to introduce me or have me follow her, she would let me know. Until then, I kept up with my studies within the Force.

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"Yeah...maybe he did."

It was a tender topic, one Aidan still wasn't comfortable having a full conversation on. At least, not here and now. He took a deep breath, turning back to Sandy and the makeshift firing range. 

"Sooo...you're actually probably far better at this than even I am. Got any pointers from a pro? Unless, of course," Aidan glanced over at Genesis, suddenly realizing his mother was still an important asset to many other people here, "you know, unless you're a little busy. In which case, we should, um...plan to spend some time together soon. I mean, I'd like that." This visit was evidence to why Aidan hadn't held anything against her even after all this time when he usually got to spend about five to ten minutes with her per meetup. She actually gave a damn enough to come and check in on him when she could. 

 

But in the very back of his mind, Aidan hoped she would stay for a bit, and maybe show all three of them some things she'd learned from her travels, and maybe a story or two to add character to everything. It might be asking too much, but there was always the hope. And whether Aidan realized it or not, that hope was something that allowed him to break through his own darkness several times.

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Nia took a moment. She'd never heard of the Sith species, only the faction. Though, she supposed, it could have been possible that she'd read bout the  Sith species and simply assumed it was the galactic power. Regardless, she held no grudge againsty the man for being born. To do so would be unbecoming, to say the least, and cruel of her. And so she stepped forward, offering her hand. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Master Sadow. It's rare for me to meet so many new people at once, so you'll have to excuse me for my... awkwardness, for lack of a better word."

 

It was clear she'd toched a nerve. She wasn't good at reading people, but even she didn't miss that look he gave the pilot. Raw nerves and dead relatives rarely mixed well,but her quick response helped put Nia at ease. It seemed she'd been jumping to conclusions.

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Kari nodded her head in acceptance, reaching her hand up and lowering the ramp. It was time they leave. Once at the helm, preflight conditions were met, her ship cleared for take off. Once she had her heading, her ship cleared traffic and entered hyperspace. 

 

"First things first." She spoke as she turned to Ban, her voice yelling past the Kosai toward the droid that had resumed his duties. "Ghost! Activate protocol Delta-Romeo-Alpha-India-November!"

 

Within moments, the T3 unit powered down and Kari placed the ship onto autopilot. With that, she motioned for Ban to follow and she walked toward the droid. "I wonder what other surprises we'll find in the little bugger."

"People will do anything, no matter how absurd, in order to avoid facing their own souls. One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious." - C.G. Jung

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"Templar Squadron eh?" Mjan spoke with a glimmer in his eye. "You guys have been making quite a name for yourselves. I heard of you guys before I even joined the Jedi Fleet during my tutelage under Master Aira. It's a honor Commander."

 

Grabbing his pikestave, Mjan presented it to her, letting the Force flow throw its contents as the two ends spun out of place and hovered, revealing the cylindrical outline of his lightsaber before he briefly activated the amber blades. "A Jedi is never without his or her weapon, but it gives the reasonable appearence of a unorthadox walking or combat staff for most." Mjan deactivated it and let the parts return. With that, he winked.

 

His gaze shifted toward Rose and the others and chuckled. "You'd be right in the assumption, my own X-Wing being the former Captain's who perished over Onderon. But I was only recently transferred into it during the battle at Dark Sun. I suppose they thought it sounded cool, but they're truly devoted to their mission, so you may hear of us more and more in the coming war."

 

Just then Nia spoke up, causing Mjan to shift his gaze back toward the young hopeful with a smile. "Please, Mjan." He requested as he placed his hand over his chest and bowed. "There's no need for apologies. When I first joined the Jedi, I was constantly nervous over my race. Still can be, though for different reasons. You will fall in when the right time comes, and will blossom in your own way."

 

His gaze shifting about, having noticed that the two were alone without their trainers, he poised a question in general concern. "Where are your Masters, Nia, Kel? Though these may be safe grounds, it's not wise to stray too far from them."

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Kel watched in fascination as Mjan grabbed his pike stave, used the force to reveal its true nature, and activated the amber blades of his light saber. Kel was a bit of a gearhead and held an appreciation for new forms of technology like ships and many forms of blasters and lightsabers people designed. Even simple weapons like knives held a certain elegance to his eye. The concealed nature of the stave was also appealing. While Kel's own lightsaber pistol would appear to anyone as a weapon its outward appearance could be easily mistaken as a common blaster. So while looking potentially threatening, it still allowed him to maintain an element of surprise. 

 

Kel was broken out of his momentary ogling when Mjan asked where their masters were. "My master was one of the Jedi called into conference with the Empress. I'm sure the meeting is done by now, so she must be around here somewhere. As for Nia, She's a hopeful who's just arrived here. She has yet to find a master or construct a Lightsaber of her own. The one she's carrying now belonged to her Father. I assisted her in repairing it, but without a crystal to call her own, she can't use it." 

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A full smile stretched across her thin lips and Sandy Sarna let a grin follow it. Aidan’s journey and interaction with his mother had filled her with joy. She bowed low to the Jedi Master and indicated the blaster rifle on the makeshift bench. If the Jedi wished to show and teach her, Sandy would be grateful. But for now Sandy was just merely content in seeing Aidan overcome one of his biggest struggles. It would come back, trauma always did, but Sandy was confident in Aidan Darkfire. Smiled at him and then looked away again towards the range, not wanting him to catch the flash of other emotions she had suppressed.

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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Wiping away the wetness from her eyes, Armiena turned to find that her apprentice had just left the hangar. 

 

“I have some time… where did Genesis go--this might have been useful for him. May I?”

 

With some hesitation, Armiena shrugged out of the sling that was holding her left arm captive. The shoulder nagged with pain and her jaw clenched for a moment, but she revealed no further sign of the complaining injury as she stretched it out in a slow rotation. Instead, the veteran Jedi placed her hands on the blaster carbine and turned it over with drilled efficiency, checking the power cell and the chamber for a live charge. It was, in fact, loaded, but the safety was engaged and the weapon pointed down-range.

 

“BlasTech E-11.” She let out a little sigh. “Cold-weather pattern. Duranium reinforcement on the magazine feed and barrel, less prone to expansion in extreme temperatures. Versatile weapon, even if I prefer something a little heavier. Not much that I can tell you that someone who went through Imperial training wouldn’t already know, but for practical advice…” The veteran Jedi tucked the carbine under her arm and approached the makeshift rifle range. With practiced ease, her metal hand swung the folding stock back and squared it against her shoulder; she took a half-step backwards and lowered her center of gravity a handful of centimeters.

 

“Stance and breath control are critical.” Armiena’s breath had slowed to a robotic rhythm and she peered down sights with eyes that blinked with unnerving slowness. “Square your shoulders and wrists to absorb the recoil, especially if you’re going full-auto for suppressing fire. Make your first shot on the exhale; but in a firefight where you’re moving around and yelling, don’t forget to breath, no matter what.” Armiena deliberately withheld her next breath and rushed through her speech to demonstrate; her hands began to tremble from the prolonged effort of holding the weapon.

 

“Speaking of suppressing fire: the stun setting can be quite useful. Even a gaze with a stun blast canbedebilitating and speaking as a Jeditheyaredamneddifficulttodeflect.”

 

A long inhalation followed. Draygo waited for her arms to stop wavering, then deliberately sent a round streaking downrange.

 

She missed completely. So did her second and third attempts, the crimson bolts passing cleanly underneath the circumference of the remote and diffusing harmlessly into a pink glow against the magcon field. The inaccuracy, at least, was consistent.

 

“A moment. Actually, you might find this useful.” Armiena frowned and began to field-strip the weapon and led Sarna through the process of inspecting its major components. Every part of the weapon, however, was pristinely maintained as though the weapon had arrived directly from the armorer’s workshop; the plasma injectors were completely clear of obstructions; the delicate cartridges that housed the focusing crystals were perfectly aligned and betrayed no cracks or even smudges; even the magazine leads had been cleaned and shone with a faint polish.

 

The rifle was perfectly maintained. The same, Armiena realized, could not be said for her own body. As she walked Sarna through the process of assembling the rifle, the veteran Jedi realized that her right hand and wrist were both exposed metal, lacking about five millimeters of synthflesh that normally masked the skeletal chassis of a prosthetic.

 

“The problem seems to be the operator.” Draygo held up her hand. “The metal slipped on that composite grip… maybe a millimeter--not much, but enough to push the barrel down a little and make my shots go low. I’ll need to practice and get used to that.”

 

The veteran Jedi gave a fourth attempt, this time without any of the self-assured polish that she earlier displayed and taking conscious, deliberate effort with her trigger pull. This time, she was rewarded with a grazing strike against the targeting remote; sparks erupted from its side and the globe scattered to the left by a meter before returning to its earlier position.

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Aidan was silent the whole time, cherishing the moment. Even when she missed, he wrote it off, knowing it was common among weapons you first pick up. Aidan had zeroed the weapon to himself before Sandy had even arrived, so the fact that Armiena could still hit the target using manual windage on a non-zeroed weapon after so few shots was a testament to her raw experience. Even when she field stripped the weapon, she did it faster and far more efficiently than Aidan ever had, especially with some of the latches holding the barrel's heat shield in place. Those were notoriously tricky, using a ring lock that was known to stick, almost as if the engineer who designed the weapon had three hands.

 

But as she fired the final shot, Aidan realized she'd called attention to her hand, or rather the prosthetic that now replaced her hand. Staring at it, he motioned for Armiena to stop firing while calling attention to the metal hand.

 

"When...did that happen?" His voice conveyed slight concern, but at the same time, it was one of those things that was done and over with. It was more knee jerk protective emotions than anything else.

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"How long before we run out of air?" A deep voice asked in the seat of a dark cockpit, small lights dimly painted a scaly lizard-like face, tired and worn of a seemingly tough day. 

 

From behind, clinking and clicking sounded throughout the hull of the freighter, blaster burns scuttled about the inside of the ship told of heavy battle fired inside the hull. A bright screen lit up, another scaly face revealed itself in the light wincing at it's brightness. After adjusting it's eyes, the face spoke in a males voice, both disappointment and disparity filled it's tone. 

 

"Two hours... give or take. Our heating coils are fried beyond belief and the motherboard is scrapped... And that's only the beginning of our problem." 

 

The body in the cockpit seat turned and looked at the figure kneeling beside an open floor panel, wires and cables attached to a flat-screened device, "Tell me." 

 

Sighing, the second figure said, "Well, our engine is shot, took a good blaster bolt to the thrusters; which we were lucky it survived till now but we lost most our fuel with a whopping 2.3% left. No way to fly or even guide the ship, most wires are fried as well as the long range scanners and communications save for the long range distress beacon. Heating coil again is out meaning we'll either suffocate first or freeze later." 

 

"We're dead then." Another voice, more gruff and distorted shouted from the opposite end of the hull.

 

The first figure sat back down, "Romulus, anyway we can get heat going despite the coils?" 

 

After a time of clicking, the second figure, Romulus, replied, "Wellll... Yes. I'll have to take a helmet and rip out it's wires, convert and reengineer-"

 

"All I need is a yes." The first cut off, clearly aggravated. 

 

Vox, chieftain of the War Pack or simply, "The Pact," was Nudono Trandoshan, a hardy and dangerous folk in close relations to the traditional Trandoshan race everyone is familar with. Nudono weren't known at all in the Galaxy only staying secluded in the reaches of the wilds of Trandosha. It wouldn't take a genius to figure out why they weren't well known either; they had a hatred toward every race. Although hatred isn't the correct word, it certainly wasn't a far off one. But with very little options, Vox initiated a long range distress beacon, hoping anyone picked up.

 

Though it was faint, it was still something. However having an Imperial Freighter wasn't the best thing either. A month ago, when their first ship crashed the Pact hijacked the freighter in of the trap that had been set. Granted Vox listened to his intuition, many of his people died in that crash, many survivors freezing on the Arctic planet. Only seven of them remained now, for now. 

 

Giving an amused huff, Vox mused when he began to drift off into sleep, swearing up and down in his failing mind that he saw a planet. As he drifted, immediately Romulus punched the chieftain in the face, finally hearing the plea of the smaller Nudono. It was gibberish at first, but as he stirred Vox saw a blurry orb... Two blurry orbs. On instant his eyes snapped fully open as he punched himself in the jaw, looking up with anger and surprise. The former was quick to fade as the latter turned into glee. 

 

"Finally!" Vox thought, standing upright as he stared at a planet and moon. It was then he remembered their comms were destroyed, but nonetheless! This was a moment of joy! 

 

"Tell everyone to prepare their gear, we might have a chance now." Vox ordered, Romulus quickly rushing to the back and hollering orders. 

 

This whole journey, this entire set of events seemed to be picking up again. The chieftain thanked Divine for this day. Hopefully, conflict won't follow. He couldn't stress though, they were in control of an Imperial ship with little to no changes, it's banners and symbols still paraded the outside plates. Shame if the ship was scrapped, it actually served a good purpose... But he hoped his pack wasn't scrapped either, knowing many pirates and those who would take advantage of the opportunity. 

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Beth let a blush crawl up her tired face and a pang of guilt for making fun of the Jedi stung her at the same time. She took the pike stave and gave it a lookover before returning it to the red faced man. 

 

“I have a feeling that we will all be flying X-Wings before the game is up. The GA and the Jedi lost a lot of good people over Onderon, I am so sorry.” 

 

It was with that line that Beth could feel the reason for this rebel alliance finally strike a spark. Both sides had suffered horribly at the hands of the New Sith Empire. And now it was up to the survivors to make a last effort. 

 

She spoke again, extending her hand again to the Sithari Jedi Knight. 

 

“I look forward to flying beside you. It's inevitable that the Starfighter commands get conjoined into one, so who knows, maybe X-caliber and Templar might fly together someday.” 

 

She looked at the Kel Dor her eyebrows raising. 

 

“If you are looking for the bright blond headed girl, she is probably with the imperial knights on floor seven like she usually is. But I haven’t seen her today.” 

 

A message popped up on the datapad attached to her belt and the vibrations caused Beth to glance at it absentmindedly. There was a call for Templars to head to briefing room one. 


 

Andromina

Rebel Alliance Fleet Command - Lieutenant

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Mjan's hand reached up and began stroking the tendrils that hung from his chin, similar to a human stroking the hair of his beard, as Kel provided answers. He knew Nia's plight all too well, her reasons having turned to Kel becoming obvious, especially his mentioning her Father's lightsaber. He smiled most kindly to the young Nautolan.

 

"I see." He spoke to the two. "Following in your Father's footsteps and becoming a Jedi?" Mjan questioned inquisitively, his gaze fixated on Nia alone now. "If you have no objections, as a Knight within the Order, I can take you on as my Padawan. But that would require you to join X-Caliber Squadron as well."

 

As he waited for her answer, allowing the thought to truly be processed, Mjan turned to Beth.

 

"Onderon was before my time, but I appreciate the sentiment all the same and return it as well." Mjan spoke as he placed the sheathed stave back to his side with his hand upon the grip, noticing the sorrow that filled the pilot's own eyes. He may not have been there, but he could tell she had been, or atleast knew more about it than he did. Extending his hand and accepting her's. "I look forward to the day that we see who's Squadron is the better."

 

Mjan spoke in jest in his last statement, but as he did, Captain Rose made her approach and Mjan turned his head as her voice whispered in his ear, Beth talking to Kel about his Master as this transpired. He turned back, his gaze shifting straight to Beth. "Maybe sooner than we thought. Better check your Orders."

 

With that, Mjan turned back to Nia. It was time for his departure, and he hoped she would accompany him. But only she could choose this path. He only hoped she had reached a conclusion that was of her own volition and not one pressed upon her by him, her hopes, or time itself. "Have you reached a decision Nia?"

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As Kel explained Nia's position, she stood silently behind him. In truth, while she'd been moderately comfortable in onversations in Glee Ansem's oceans, she was finding it harder to read people and know the impact her words were having. In the water, she could sense one's emotions through her tendrils. It helped her take on a more natural flow in discussions. Here above the water, however, she had trouble. It was still possible to read people, but much harder. She had to focus, and she found that doing so mid-sentence often drew strange looks. She shuddered to think what it would be like in the vacuum of space.

 

At Mjan's offer, however, her eyes widened. She hadn't exected that. She figured there'd be some sort of ceremony, something more official. But if this was all it took...

 

The only thing that cused her to hesitate was that she'd never flown... anything before. Not a speeder, not a shuttle, and certainly not a fighter. She was thankful when he moved on to another topic. She didn't need to read the air to know he was giving her time to think. She could finaly begin. The journey wouldn't be how she'd expected, to be sure, but when was one's path ever what they expected? Still, she felt it important to state her concerns.

 

"I would be honored, Master Mjan. I'm inexperienced, however. I've never flown anything in my life. I'm not sure how useful I'll be in a starfighter right now. I would be honored if you taught me how, though. Please don't take my hesitation for lack of interest."

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The Jedi master made firing and aiming look easy even if she missed the first few rounds. There was always an adjustment to using a new weapon. Sandy herself couldn’t have done better so she didn’t smirk or laugh, but simply smiled and nodded her appreciation as she watched the woman tear the blaster carbine down and show her how to put it back together. Sandy repeated the process herself, though much slower with a great amount of getting stuck on the small parts. She sat back and watched the jedi master continue to fire until Aidan exclaimed about her hand. Sandy watched quietly as she did not want to interfere in the moment. She was a jedi healer, and if she was needed she was there. But it was not her place to barge into an emotional moment between mother and son. 

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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Briggs was flying through the galaxy when he noticed he was low on supplies. He sighed and veered to his left approaching  a planet. He flew into the planets atmosphere and slowly made his way towards the surface near a city. When he eventually landed he put his holsters on and put his DC-17 blasters in them as he stood up and made his way to the exit. He pressed a button and a mechanical whine came along with a beautiful sunshine. He looked out at the planet for a second taking it in before heading out towards the city. As he got there he was met with many people rustling around trying to find their way to wherever they could be going. He made his way to some kind of market area, “Why does there have to be so many people” he whispered to himself as he made his way through the maze that was the city’s market.

 

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FOR VOX 

___________________

 

An Alert tone sounded in the ready room of the on duty fighter squadrons that kept constant vigilance over ther Imperial, now Rebel Alliance combined operations headquarters. The high pitched then low resounding tone of the alarm caused the three dozen fighter pilots assigned to the relaxing duty of waiting for something bad to happen on a planet where it usually didn’t, to sprint towards the briefing station. Buckling helmets and survival EV gear to their belts the mixed crew found their officer quickly projecting what looked like a derelict wreck of a freighter onto the screen that towered over them. 

 

Lieutenant Commander Gerleon who commanded the starfighter command’s swing shift patted at the grey cylinders of rank that spoke of his past allegiance to the Imperial Remnant and a long career of fighting the very people who made up a good half of the squadrons assembled before him. The mix of Imperial grey and Galactic Alliance green flight suits was enough to tell him that he needed to order a grand total of some three thousand new uniforms for this new rebel company. But that would come later, for now, there was a mission to brief. 

 

Gerleon’s high coruscanti accent, shouted over the buzz of mixed conversations until the room was somewhat quiet. 

 

“Gentlemen, Ladies, a similar briefing is being held for the members of the Combined Marines next door, so this will be a joint operation.” This kicked up another flurry of conversation until he slammed his hand down on the countertop next to him. “I know that this will be the first time that many of you will get to actually fly combat with someone..” He held up two fingers and wiggled them about. “...from the other side, but I believe that this new venture will make us all better pilots. In fact due to shortages from KDY, it's likely we will phase out the defenders and you will all be playing X-jockeys.” Many human faces in the room looked exceedingly pale at that sentence. But he carried on to the actual mission objectives. 

 

“We have a derelict wreck of an old imperial classified freighter. Now I’ve talked to intel, and they can’t be sure if its one of the old Remnants craft, but it is likely some kind of unfortunate accident during the evacuation of Kuat, Cardia, Coruscant, or the like. Or, and I know you are all thinking it, we’ve been spotted by the Sith Empire’s Armada and they have devised some kind of trap. As such we are putting you all out there and scrambling the reserves after you. Rock, Rancor, and Tau squadrons will  do the initial flyby. Open comms, try to talk with them when you are on top. The Marines will be enroute as well for salvage or recovery. Now if this is some kind of trickery, they’ll have a surprise waiting for them. Now get out there and make those we left behind proud.” 

 

He looked down at the table then looked back up, a smile on his face. “And may the force be with you.” 

 

___________


 

Tau, in their unsubtle TIE Defenders lead the trio of squadrons until they were within general communications range. 

 

If those within the derelict could hear them, they would hear the high coruscanti accent of an Imperial Pilot, 

 

“Attention those within the vessel, this is Rebel Alliance starfighter command, please stay calm, we have registered a distress beacon, please respond immediately”

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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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@Flashbandit2475 

Seeing a man dressed in armour with blaster pistols slung at his hips, on of the guards attached to the Imperial Mission on Nar Shaddaa approached. He was bare headed, and his grey plastoid helm hung from a notch on his belt. He carried a blaster Rifle slung on his back but was unarmed for the moment. 

 

“Good morning stranger, what brings you to the lovely world of Nar Shaddaa? We at the Imperial Mission are here to help as needed, we even have jobs should you be interested in using those blaster pistols for something other than show.” 

 

The guard grinned, and pointed back to the Mission on the edge of the market, whose large slanted walls, showed the old authority of the Imperial Remnant. Now combined to form the new rebel alliance with the refugees of the Galactic Alliance. 

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Lord Commander Raphenel Karlovci Contispex- Imperial Warden

 

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@ISB Officer(s)

Briggs looked at the guard and said “Sure as long as I get supplies like food” Briggs then crossed his arms and sighed. He thought about what kind of jobs he would be given and how much supplies he’d be given. He grabbed one of his blasters and said “and these aren’t for show.” He flipped it around his finger before slipping it into his holster. “So what will I be doing exactly?” He asked as he leaned against a nearby wall.

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Raven Zinthos

____________________________________

 

Clattering heard the hull, flashlights abd emergency lights were turned on to give the crew lumination. Seven of the Nudono, including Vox and Romulus stood tall and prepped weapons in case they were boarded and assaulted. Granted they were in a snall space with little cover their armor had exceptional protection, better than most, but it wasn't completely indestructible. Powerful enough blasters did crack and in some cases pierces the armor, however individuals close enough felt the rough plating crunching against their faces. Many times, weaker humans and other species had fallen to mere punches and even hard slaps by the Nudono, it was either their brute strength or simply because other species were pansies. 

Blades jutted off the guns as blades, a larger rifle-looking weapon having a large blade bending backward and out as a secondary weapon; a sword and blade. Clips and grenades were strapped to waists and belts, secondary weapons like pistols were strapped onto by either hook, holster, or a magnetic plate. The Spikers, more or less, much like the Puncture rifles were a primary weapon for Nudono. Automatic, bladed, and powerful the Spikers earned their right as a main weapon in close quarters combat. The Puncture Rifle was the main babe however, firing grenades that exploded on contact, they were favored in mid to close range combat for their effectiveness and power. A weapon more for second use, the Mauler, was what it's name intended. Perhaps not the best used in even mid range, it was a shotgun that fired scattering shells infused wity energy, at close range it was usually fatal. But sporting off Vox's back hilted by magnetic clips and holster was a staff-blade, long and shard, the blades width and clear signs of scratches would tell one that it was a primary weapon of the chieftain. Only anyone could guess what it was used for. 

"Sir, are you certain we should take arms?" A soldier asked Vox looking down at his own rifle, "We were begging for rescue, not a standoff were we?"

Vox looked up as he loaded his Spiker with ammunition, he stood and stated, "Remember the trade deal between the Nudono and Ehvanii clans, between our ancestors? We perceived them as helping us until they joined the raiders, they tricked us. We're not killing, yet. We need to be ready just in case." 

The soldier nodded, the red light of the emergency power gleaming of both armor abd weapon. As young as he was, Vox knew he wasn't stupid, asking a good question. That's what he liked, not mockery or selfish views but questions of their well being. Years ago, when the Ehvanii were still existing they had been in off and on skirmishes with the Nudono, the day they joined ranks with the Trandoshan slavers was thr day Vox's great grandfather eradicated both that clan and company. Many died that day. Vox, to say the least, knew all of his people's history as a chieftain should so he can learn and avoid the mistakes they made, although some things couldn't be avoided and he faved them. One of them being their me extinction right now. 

The chieftains two brothers, Equinox and Chaox, stood ready with their weapons holstered, the helms of their armor covering all seven faces. Romulus didn't have Pact armor but rather an exosuit for hazardous climates, still tough in it's own right. Vox had heard the radio sound off, a voice telling them to stay calm. If only it worked two-way he could talk to them. 

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“Coruscant.” Draygo withdrew her gaze from the optics of the blaster rifle, vented the chamber and removed the magazine. “Things got a bit difficult. One of the landing strips was disabled by a storm. It was rather strange--I knew exactly what I needed to do, even if I wasn’t exactly conscious of it. Next time I felt… present, I was waking up in a bacta tank.”

 

Armiena continued to fuss with the rifle, not taking her eyes from the weapon. Pieces of the intricate wrist joint could be seen moving through gaps in the chassis. Even as her thoughts began to turn inward, reflecting on the trials of that busy hour when she had first realized that Aryian had died, she forced herself to tear her gaze from the action of the rifle and smiled at Sarna. “It’s a hand. I can manage without that more easily than other parts of the anatomy.”

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@Flashbandit2475

The guard’s smile hardened at the display with the pistols. He put out a hand in a ‘stop’ gesture. 

 

“Come now, no need to muzzle everyone in the bloody market to prove you are a gunslinger. The Imperial Mission has a wide variety of missions and jobs, but we will need more than just your word to proove you are worthy of tasks such as hunting down Sith Lords!” 

 

He broke out into a grin again. 

 

“What do you say, you want some training?” 

 

((As you are a new RPer it might be good to have some training so that you know the ropes. Hit me up on Discord, Delta73. And we can arrange some. Don’t want to see you die on the first mission!))

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Lord Commander Raphenel Karlovci Contispex- Imperial Warden

 

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“No response…” He checked his readings showing multiple glowing blips on the lifesign scanner. Either there was a cluster of mynocks or there was certainly multiple humanoids in that derelict. He considered for a moment and switched from the emergency frequency to general Guard frequency, who the three squadron leaders were operating on in conjunction with the Rebel Alliance fleet. 

 

“Rock and Rancor from Tau one.” He clicked the transmit button on the datapad slung next to his control yoke. “Life signs are coming back positive, no response on hail, anything from the frequencies you tried?” After a chorus of negatives he keyed to the general command. “Command, this is Tau one, requesting assistance of fleet elements.” After acknowledgement, and a few minutes of waiting, three corvettes of the old Galactic Alliance make emerged from a microjump beside the derelict. 

 

The voice of the captain of the leading corvette, whose sensor compartment bulged thickly below the bridge, spoke over the guard frequency, as her fighter escort dropped into realspace beside.  “Tau, beginning yankee search of the vessel. If their comms are down, we’ll know. Marines, prepare your plasma cutters.” 

 

The high intensity ping of the sensor search made the commander of Tau squadron wince. The ping echoed through the hulls of the TIE defender and would do so for the derelict. One kilometer away, the boarding vessel packed with marines magnetically attached itself to one of the docking entrances. Plasma Cutters fired, and the marines would boil into the ship within moments should the Corvette give the authorization. 

 

A medical frigate also materialized out of its microjump in formation. Should this mission turn into a rescue mission. Which Tau’s commander was beginning to believe it would. 

 

“Clear. Confirmed Derelict, no explosives or surprises found.”

 

And the Marines began their entry.

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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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Minutes of waiting passed, the soldiers began to grow anxious and impatient but they still stood, ready to leave or fight should they be boarded. Two of the soldiers weild large metal shields that were heavy and simple used for protection in combat, not that they'd use them any time soon, it was just leftover gear. So far each member carried several guns and one even carrying a large chest with extra armor... Carried not the exact word, he simply lifted it's front while the corner back was still touching the floor. Romulus had a medical pack on him in case anyone sustained injuries in a fight. Chaox however hefted a long barreled scoped rifle of sorts: the Widower. 

 

Vox, as calm as he was seemed to get annoyed, what were they doing out there? His answer came in the form of a noise, a saw or something similar to it albeit more.... On fire. Quickly, Vox activated the Heads Up Display in his helm and saw there was a ship attached theirs, individuals entering the upper level. The other troops turned immediately to the noises of footsteps and raised their weapons taking cover behind the Shield Brothers. The chieftain stood in the middle, a foot-wide allowing him to see who boarded. 

 

No one has ever seen the Nudono, maybe the classic Trandoshan people but not the isolated clans. Oh how Vox wished there were more. Originally long before his time his clan had achieved space flight and sustainability, but due to their warlike need to dominate, the Ehvanii, Nudono, Voraki, and Delinious master packs knocked each other back down to pre-industrialization. It was a shame, who knew how far the four clans could have gone? 

 

"Vox," Equinox, one of the three brothers began, "What do we need to do? In this situation I'm doubting it's a rescue." 

 

"Keep calm brothers," The chieftain replies, "If whoever see's us and attacks then we have our answer. We listen to their demands if otherwise. We still bear our arms, we won't be tricked. We may not speak common, but I'm certain they have translators." 

 

Vox waited, whoever was coming he had them on the HUD but they were painted as white dots, a neutral color representing no sides of friend or foe. The Nudono never learned to speak Common English or whatever the language was, they spoke something similar to Trandoshan but sounded Latin than anything. He hoped they'd understand, whoever this was. 

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"Well, even if some of you is newer than other parts, it's still good to see you."

Aidan was momentarily lost in hazy, fuzzy feelings of nostalgia, wishing he and his mother were closer. Maybe they could be in the future...that would be nice. But after a bit, Aidan came out of his reverie, realizing he was still there for a purpose. His hand drifted down to his staff saber hilt as he began remembering the details.

"I was actually showing Sandy all this because she promised to train me a little bit in some proper lightsaber forms. Vom targ, was it?" 

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@ISB Officer(s)

 

Briggs thought about it for a second, tapping his foot and fiddling with the hilt of his blaster “Sure I’ll do it.”  He pushed himself from the wall detecting a few nasty looking people robbing someone down an alley. “Yeah I’m up for the training but what should we do about them?” He asked pointing towards them.

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