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Raven Nasra

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Raven Nasra last won the day on November 13 2022

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About Raven Nasra

  • Birthday 12/26/1991

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  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.
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