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Nar Shaddaa - Rebel Alliance Headquarters


Raven Nasra

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Quin arrived second to the mess hall after Carson did. Quin got what food he wanted and then sat down next to Carson with a slight grunt. He looked up to see both Allidar and Tenbar arriving at the same time and jumping in line to also get some food. He looked down at his own plate with a bit of disgust. He wasn't a fan of what was being served, but was too hungry to really complain outside of giving his disgusted look at it before shoveling some of it in his mouth. With a full mouth, he observed that Carson did bring cards with him. With some bits of food falling out, he asked the new recruit about it.

 

"I see you did bring your cards. Is that some kind of comfort thing?" He wasn't being mean, just simply curious. To Quin, cards was something that old mean played to keep themselves occupied. He had never seen someone his own age play them as a legit downtime thing. Tenbar sat down with a disgusted look with the group, but not at the food, rather at Quin. "Do you need to talk with your mouth full?" Allidar gave a slight smile at the comment from tenbar, but didn't add anything. She for one was also curious about Carson, but not really why he carried the cards.

 

(( @Moff Lurg ))

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Carson looked at Quin, then said "I just like playing cards, it's a downtime thing when I'm not at work, I was also wondering if you wanted to play a game of Sabacc." Carson looked at the amounts of credits he had, then seeing that he had none he said. "I won't be gambling anything, unless you want a portion of my food." He then started eating and after swallowing he heard Tenbar make his comment "Not sure soldiers are supposed to be neat and tidy, I mean if I was eating rations in trenches I would yell to warn others if there was a force just attacking." Carson then looked back at Quin, waiting for a response.

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Quin almost spit his food out on his plate in spite of Tenbar, but the response from Carson seemed to be enough to keep him from actually doing so. He instead swallowed what was in his mouth and then turned to give his full attention to Carson. "I'd love to play a game of Sabacc. Haven't actually played it since I was fourteen. Play Pazaak recently, but not Sabacc." Allidar gave a cough before she spoke up to add on. "Pazaak isn't really a thinkers game. More like luck. Some say Sabacc is the same way. Dejarik is the game that will help skills develop."

 

"But not everyone has access to a Dejarik board Allidar. Cards are a better way of keeping the mind sharp while in the field." Tenbar leaned in after taking a bite of his own food and looked around at the table. Once he swallowed his food, he got a grin. "How about a fun game between the four of us then? Just to keep our minds sharp and active?"

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Sandy began to realize that she had mostly been informed of the famous and somewhat infamous Aryian Darkfire purely through what Aidan himself had said of the man. What she had sensed in their time of meditation, and the general rumour mill that had transcribed her time as a hopeful. The man had been larger than life, and he cast a very long shadow over Aidan and his family. Sandy decided to forgo any further judgement without the due research the man deserved and simply nodded in response to Misal. They ducked into a freight elevator and Sandy was left for the moment with her thoughts. 

 

“Which floor?” 

 

Then she looked back at the veiled and elderly Miraluka.  

 

“We are fortunate indeed, and I apologize for speaking on something I did not know much about. It is a tendency that has plagued me since my apprenticeship. I know AIdan has struggled, but I admit I don’t know how to help him.”
 

Perhaps the answer lay in the young man himself. She could not force him to leave his baggage behind. That would be for him to do himself.

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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“Well done not feeding anger at going down to a blow like that.” 

 

It had not been her master’s technique, but Alcmène far preferred a praising approach to training than the constant belittlement and punishments that she had received. Her blade was easily batted aside by his own blow and her thin smile became a grin. She danced back from the blow at her waist, letting it whisper past her midriff, furrowing a long black line in her red tunic. 

 

“Remaining calm is where we Jedi thrive. Do not let the taunts of anger of you opponent effect you.” 

 

She gestured her hand and a stiff telekinetic blow slammed towards his ankles. 

 

“If an opponent is stronger than you. Break his roots.” 

 

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On 11/13/2021 at 1:43 PM, Alcmène said:

“Well done not feeding anger at going down to a blow like that.” 

 

It had not been her master’s technique, but Alcmène far preferred a praising approach to training than the constant belittlement and punishments that she had received. Her blade was easily batted aside by his own blow and her thin smile became a grin. She danced back from the blow at her waist, letting it whisper past her midriff, furrowing a long black line in her red tunic. 

 

“Remaining calm is where we Jedi thrive. Do not let the taunts of anger of you opponent effect you.” 

 

She gestured her hand and a stiff telekinetic blow slammed towards his ankles. 

 

“If an opponent is stronger than you. Break his roots.” 

 

 

Vox's maneuver was met with compliments. Good, it gave the Trandoshan some more courage to push forward in the figurative sense. The Force warned him of an incoming wave, not large or flashy but rather a strong and small push of force toward his ankles. His instincts scream jump but the Force said something... Else. Quickly Vox tugged on the Force around him and blocked the power coming toward him. 

 

The instant he did that, Vox pressed forward, and instead of one hand gripping the saber he used both for better control and swifter movement. When he approached Alcmène, Vox swung again this time using the Force to bolster his speed, his controlled attack swipe diagonally from the lower left to the upper right similar to his "brilliant" strike before. He knew the attack could get parried or dodged so he came back down with his blade following the smaller woman as he did. Though his pursuit seemed eager, which it was, he didn't rush nor did he strike with needless or excess power, Vox allowed the Force to guide his movements, and though now they'd be moving at a fervent speed to him everything was slowed down. 

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Carson started shuffling the cards before then going over the rules of the game. He dealt the cards out to all four of the people at the table. "So while we play Sabacc I wanted to ask, what do we do after we eat?" He started his turn then when finished he looked over to Allidar, nodding his head to tell him that it's his turn. Carson thought for a bit about Admiral Beck Pilon, and had wondered why he had made them do such a hard training scenario. He brushed the thoughts away then focusing back on the game of cards. He then waits for Allidar to take his turn in the card game. @Beck Pilon

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“Shen-Cresh two, my dear. We won’t need to go far.” A sense of amusement about Misal suggested that the veteran operator was lying through her teeth. Indeed, the moment that the turbolift jolted in its descent with a recoil, a faint ripple tremulated through The Force and the Miraluka took a deep breath. Her arm withdrew from Master Sarna’s and her wrist shot forward, revealing a small dataspike from the sleeve of her black robe that she jammed into the turbolift’s controls with a firm thrust.

 

Letting out a little sigh of satisfaction, Misal continued more calmly, understanding that the turbolift’s holocam had just been subverted. Indeed, the service lift was continuing to descend--quite a bit further down into Nar Shaddaa’s bowels than the neglected subcellar levels of the Rebel Alliance’s headquarters.

 

“I have personally found that secrets and shame are inherently erosive to relationships… and to a person’s character. These elements are unfortunately replete in a military organization. The only counter is intimacy. Not the diverting variety,” there was another wry smile from the aged Miraluka. “But the kind that only develops with years of active acceptance and hard work. Bearing your own faults to a person that can wound you deeply and trusting in their kindness. Understanding and accepting when they inevitably err. Learning their character so deeply that you sometimes know how they will respond.”

 

“Of course, maintaining that kind of intimacy can be rather difficult when the subject is behind bars. Stealing personnel files will have to suffice in this instance. I understand if you lack the appetite for this kind of work.”

 

Indeed, at that moment, the turbolift’s doors opened to reveal a dank tunnel system that ran far beneath the Red and Black. Misal’s nostrils closed instinctively at the familiar reek of mildew, ancient duracrete, and the effluent of unnameable species. Wherever the two Force-Sensitive women were, they were far beneath the foundations of the Rebel Alliance’s headquarters, down in the depths of Nar Shaddaa that had been abandoned and sealed away centuries ago. Few civilized creatures were purported to venture down to these levels, and the scarce sapients who found use for them invariably wished for their business to remain undetected by lawful authorities.

 

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Allidar gave a smile as she looked over her cards. Sabacc was a game she knew how to play, but didn't understand. She glanced over at everyone at the table before returning to her own hand. She held a few cards that she knew the full values of, such as the Master and two Balance cards. She looked for a moment at Tenbar before she spoke to Carson. "After eating, not much. We clean our equipment, read training manuals, get tested, do some workouts... Training scenarios every so often. Nothing like the one we just went through. We haven't been assigned to anything yet, outside of training programs."

 

Tenbar let out a very heavy sigh as he looked over his own cards. The Star, Endurance and The Idiot. "Usually it's learning the function of each unit and protocols. I know that there was a delay in assignments of new recruits to commanders due to a lot of them being off site with the war. But from the buzz, it sounds like it's coming here soon." Quin cleared his throat. "I'd hate to not get put into command before the evacuation begins. We'd then get shuffled around and not assigned for another two standard months." He looked at his cards. The Ace , a four and a three card. He then looked at Carson. "You have a better chance out of any of us. You have some history. Maybe that's why Admiral Pilon did the exercise he did with us, to see what you can actually do." @Moff Lurg

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With some great deal of apprehension Sandy pressed the holopanel and set the turbolift on its rocketlike journey towards the depths of the Red and Black. The apprehension was soon proven true as the older woman whipped a dataspike into the panel. She took a step back and felt a frown begin to creep across her face. Was this really the way to deal with this? Surely a more diplomatic approach, if not just a straight and simple appeal to the Empress of the Imperial Remnant was the correct course here, not a subtle infiltration mission into the heart of their allies base. A base whose doors had been willingly opened for them. She did not like the feeling that shivered down her spine, but she kept quiet and watched as Aidan’s grandmother brought the turbolift into the bowels of old Nar Shaddaa. 

 

A place that held the secrets of a thousand years of slavery. A place where she had seen the bodies of slavers dumped like refuse into the deep dark of the yawning mouth of Nar Shaddaa. She shivered. The Imperials had called it a justifiable solution to what to do with those that had profited from the enslavement of sentient life. She had not stopped the slaughter, no one had. The hutts and their ilk deserved the fate that the firm hand of the remnant had given them. Had it been justified? Looking back it felt like it had been. The sight of child slaves strapped with detonite collars, still woke her up at nights, and seeing those that put them there gunned down, did not trouble her sleep at all. 

 

She swallowed her memories and feelings and stepped out into the darkness at the heels of a woman she did not truly know. 

 

Such was the way of the Jedi.

 

"I have your back." 

 

And her hand rested on the handle of her lightsaber. 

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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“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.

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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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“Ladies and gentlemen of the provisional government.” The young queen curtsied to the gathering of generals and fellow monarchs. “I come from a world that has little power. A world that believed in the silken words of the Galactic Alliance. We believed in the security of the senate. We believed in the righteousness of a democracy. Selecting our heads of state to be little more than pawns to the bureaucracy. Figureheads in white, whose skirts hid the failings of great men. We did not see what a mistake it was to trust the Galactic Alliance until it was far too late. Now I am the queen of a doomed planet, whose people lie under the heavy yoke of Sith thralldom.

 

“While the Remnant screamed about Sith Incursions to the far Galactic East, the Galactic Alliance and its senate twiddled their thumbs. Arguing about taxation and trade disputes while men fought and died on their very doorstep. Now I will not disparage the brave men and women of the Military. I would never doubt their commitment, but they were shackled by foolish policy that withheld their hand from intervention. They were forced to watch while a great power rose to eclipse them that they could do nothing to stop. Because they were held back by the democratic senate. We may discuss rule of law and the punishment of specific crimes all we like. But if we do not fix the problem at its source we will just see the problem come around again. 

 

“I agree with the empress of the Imperial Remnant and I think all of you here when I say, never again should we allow ourselves and the Alliance to fall to this weakness. What else is a galactic government for if not to protect its citizens from threats external or internal. Naboo stands with the formation of a strong central government who is not bound by having every single thing its military does be voted upon by ten thousand competing interests. Interests I must point out that did not believe it within the power of the GA to stop slavery in the outer rim. Interests that put the crying of millions of innocents out of mind so that they could stay in their ivory towers. 

 

Her smile became a grim and hard jawed look of determination. Something that clashed with her soft and kind face. 

 

“For the safety of the people. We must not let a democracy result from this war. We cannot repeat the mistakes of our past. Because if we do, we have ignored the lesson bought with the blood of trillions.”

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Queen Namari of the Naboo

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This was a region of Nar Shaddaa that few sapient beings with legitimate business dared to enter. There were rumors--as with Coruscant, before the first or second time the ecumenopolis had undergone a planet-wide demolition--that mutants and other foul fauna prowled the Undercity. The legends of blind troglodytes, enormous duracrete-consuming wurms, even rakghouls--they were all favorites of Nar Shaddaa’s veterans, told with a poodoo-eating grin to spook the Imperial and Rebel visitors. Some of the more outlandish stories worried that the very foundations that the Imperial towers were built upon were not entirely stable--that the entire cityspace might collapse at any moment.

 

Misal had yet to corroborate any of those stories. However, as the two Force-Sensitives departed the turbolift and their passage through the vast tunnel was lit by spot-lumas attuned to proximity sensors, one of the stories was immediately confirmed: the ecosystem of this elevation was entire different from the “surface”. It was cold, damp, and the very air felt sickeningly oily. The older Miraluka shivered once as she peered into the distant darkness. The Rebel Alliance may have patrolled these tunnels at some point--even removed leaking pipes and killed some of the more aggressive fauna--but their attempts at securing them did nothing to obliterate the claustrophobia.

 

“As it happens, Nar Shaddaa has quite a fascinating geology for a moon of this size. Millenia of sapients building on top of the foundations of previous generations, almost no standardized documentation. There is a vast foundation of partly-forgotten infrastructure below the surface… such as these old maglev tunnels. Long abandoned, of course,” she added with a smile as their steps towards the general direction of the Imperial Knights headquarters echoed… and echoed… and echoed. 

 

A faint scuttle of a many-legged shadow retreated from them. A series of spotlumas flickered to life in the darkness far before them, but failed to reveal anything other than their own imaginations. As The Force tended to will such things, the path of the two Force-Sensitives was leading them directly towards the retreating lights. “I suspect that the Rebel Alliance deliberately built their headquarters over them. No doubt my daughter will find them very useful in the future. Three hundred meters at two-eighty until we are beneath the Imperial Knights’ complex. ”

 

“Yes, Rebellion definitely did not succeed in sterilizing these tunnels. Hopefully that creature is not intelligent. Or social.”

 

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Kirlocca found himself coming and going rather consistently through consciousness. Through the Force, he was able to sense out his padawans along with others. Namely Raven. He was fully unaware of how he got back into the presence of Raven and others within the Jedi Order again, let alone how they even got off the planet, yet here he was. He reached out to touch each mind of both Alleria and Johan, letting them know he was with them, as he was sure they would freak out suddenly being within a med ward. Sitting up, he almost immediately bumped his head on some light that hung over him. A droid nurse seemed to not notice, while the Twi'lek one did.

 

"Yeah, I guess those lights do hang a bit low for Wookiees. You're injuries seemed fairly straight forward, unlike the Mandalorian woman with you. You may notice that your leg will go numb every so often. Whatever got you, I was unable to actually reverse most of the damage." Kirlocca threw is legs over the side of the operating table that he was on. His left leg did indeed have a slight numb feeling to it where the undead thing got him. With a slow nod, he stood up and put some weight on it. The pain level was very minimal at best.

 

<< I've had worse... Although I can't truly remember what it felt like. You did well with what transpired to me. >>

 

The Jedi Master moved to get himself dressed in the clothing that he normally would wear around the Jedi Temple's of old. His own mind had a slight pain when he also thought of Tobias Vos and everything he went through. And I lost the lightsaber he let me borrow... He shook his head as he cast the thought aside. For now, he had far greater things that he needed to be prepared for and to deal with. The loss of material things wouldn't hold him down for the moment. 

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Having successfully directed the pacification and liberation of Outer Heaven, Vice Admiral Nikolai Kolchak had directed his attentions to Mon Cal before being summoned to Nar Shaddaa. The glistening brand new hulls of a fleet of Mon Cal built warships pierced the twinkling darkness of space, reflecting the stars in their glistening chromium coated hulls.

 

Aboard the bridge of the armor-laden Assault Lance, The Wailing Whaladon, Kolchak surveyed the cityscape below. It had not been that long ago that the strongest Imperial asset on the planet had been his very own shadowy cabal of Naval Intelligence operatives. Now, they were a stark minority, lurking amongst the undercurrent of the world, silently maintaining law and order, protecting the fleet and by it, freedom and dignity the galaxy over.  
 

Quickly, the cybernetically enhanced commander disembarked and made his way to the meeting below.

 

He arrived, with his small contingent of white clad Imperial commandos just as the Empress was speaking, slipping into the back of the room as quietly as they may. Stoicly he listened as the heads of state and bureaucrats stated their thoughts and opinions. Democracy had it’s place, but to maintain such a thing required a razor-edged balance; one that, so far, a bloated galaxy like theirs was unable to maintain on a galactic scale without falling to dark desires and personal passions. What he had seen in the shadows of his career was that laziness, sloth and complacency allowed the current dark threat to fester and grow again into the monster that now threatened them all.    
 

When it came his turn to speak, the Vice Admiral of the Remnant’s naval forces and overseer of Naval Intelligence, a man whose career had been built upon his work as a pirate hunter and beyond the frontline combatant of the very evils these leaders now sought to oppose, stepped forward. Behind him stood his faceless contingent, a protective detail that belayed years of terror to evil doers and compliance to the will of the government’s leadership against chaos and disorder. “Highness,” he bowed slightly to the Empress. “The scourge on Outer Heaven haz fallen. Even now ze vorld is being rebuilt into ze visionz ov zis council. Freedom and prosperity shall reign. Ze forces under my command, naval and intelligence, stand ready to continue ze fight against oppression and villainy.” He paused as his mind and mechanized enhancements considered ending what he was saying there. For a moment, he stood silent before deciding to continue. “But zen, in a galaxy as large as ours, zhere vill always be zhese zhreats, internal and out.” He shot a knowing  glance to the Queen-in-exile. “Ve must constantly vatch and strike vithout hesitation at any who vould zhreaten our people. Even now, ze ahipyardz ov Mon Cala are churning forth veapons by vhich to preserve ze peace ov ze stars. Zhey stand ready to zerve.”

 

As soon as he was done, Nikolai, locked eyes with the Empress, nodded and stepped back.
__________________________________

 

INTERDICTION CADRE: Interdiction Field

-SFS Immobilizer 418-class Heavy Cruiser Constantine |9/9| (1xp)

-MC30-class frigate Queen Memara |3/3| (1xp)

-DP20 Corvette Surprise |2/1| (1xp)

-DP20 Corvette Crescelle |2/1| (1xp)

-DP20 Corvette Hawkbat |2/1| (1xp)

-DP20 Corvette Audacity |2/1| (1xp)

 

-MC90 Star Cruiser The Wailing Whaladon 25/25

Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram] Juggernaut

 

-MC80a Star Cruiser Tessek’s Revenge 25/25

Search and Destroy Carrier Ghost Hunters

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Carson Lurg played his turn in Sabaac, not a very good card he played but at this point he was just glad to be playing. "I've cleaned my equipment, I did before I ate. So just wondering is a Heavy Weapons Specialist the same as a Heavy Trooper? And what are all of our specializations here." He then spoke one more time before continuing to eat. "I was also stranded on a planet for a long time because I failed when I was in the Sith Empire, I was sort of exiled there. I'm just glad I'm not with the Sith anymore and that I am able to see through their lies now." @Beck Pilon

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Dropping out of hyperspace was the freighter that was "apprehended" from the Sith by one Mantis. The vessel was retrofitted by removal via it's insignias and internal marker, making it a neutral ship overall which would in turn allow the Clones to move between spaces that rebel/imperial units wouldn't be able to... To some extent. The Mantis, as it was named after its deceased owner,  was moving into the Nar Shaadda airspace where one Captain Tilt kept his ships comms online knowing this "Rebellion" would like an answer to who they are. 

 

"So... It's not rocket science. You can turn these gas cells for the blasters and rig then into explosives." Thumper says as he was doing just that, showing Riggs how to turn ammo into a makeshift weapon.

 

"Okay, like I said I can't really grasp it." Riggs replied. 

 

"What do you mean you can't grasp it?!" 

 

"I'm a computer junkie Thumper, you know, droids and all that! I'm call Riggs because I'm a weapons specialist in general, got something broke leba blaster or a device? No problem! Turning blaster gas into bombs ain't my forté, Thumper, you're the explosives expert." 

 

With a hard sigh, Thumper opened his mouth to say something until Tilt spoke up, "You two get your things together. We're here." 

 

 

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“Well done!” The young Jedi Knight cried as her apprentice’s movements became a blur of speedy and well aimed strikes. Her grin was very apparent as she stepped to the side and let her blade intersect his. The blow was strong, and the weight of it  felt like it had jarred the still healing bones in her wrists. Her smile however did not break. 

 

“You could probably tell how much that hurt to block. Let me show you how you should deal with such a blow.” 

 

She brought her blade up again, this time at a sharp angle that rolled his next blow off its slant like water off the back of a pond bird. 

 

“Never meet strength to strength. Let them waste their strength on your blade. Turn their kinetic energy against them.” 

 

The next blow she let collide with her blade she let the blade move along with it. Spinning in her wrist under the blow and coming back around to riposte near his left ear. 

 

“That is the way of a Jedi. Turn their anger against them. Turn their blows. Then you will be a Jedi Knight.” 

 

She let the force settle into the back of her mind. 

 

“Now show me what you have learned.” 

 

And she attacked. Her blows coming faster than an eye could track.

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Vox's movements were smooth as Alcmène taught him calmly. Blocking attacks from a Force enhanced individual was like blocking flying rocks, it stiffened his wrists but he didn't complain. However the woman had more a lesson to teach when she easily parried his blade, and in that manner she wanted the lizard to exactly that. He didn't let his excitment interrupt the connection to the Force for Vox settled on its flow, his movements like motions to a river; swift and strong but calm. 

 

When Alcmène went for the offensive Vox it was like slow motion for him. He angled his weapon and allowed the opposing blade to slide down half way until he knocked it out of the way with a slight push of his own, and the he went for the counter. Back and forth he either countered or he defended himself in the fashion he was shown using the steady movements and flow of the energies that surrounded the pair. In truth he enjoyed this, a warrior of a different kind teaching a novice their ways, it brought him back to the old days when he was learning about the blade when Vox was young. 

 

Vox had the style if fighting down to a T, mixing it with his lessons he's learned so far. He was no fool nor an eager hound for Vox understood how to pick up quickly and move, he learns fast and he was always more hands-on with any method. Vox was just as quick to go on the offensive as he was the defensive, the woman's blade hardly blocked and instead parried or rolled off; however he didn't want the fight to end, he savoured the practice. To any bystander their movements were as fast as the wind in a flurry of blade swinging, but to him everything was as if it flowed in normal time of not a tad slower. 

Edited by Vox

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*** Mess Hall ***

 

Quin smiled at Carson after he asked his question. "There about the same I guess. I think that within the ranks currently, we have Heavy Troopers, which are essentially the ones who have the skills and training required for heavy weapons..." Quin played his own hand as he finished up and offered up Carson a shrug. "Who can say for sure?" "Command can." Tenbar said without any emotion to his voice. He simply played his own hand and looked around after making it known that he believed that Command was in a position to say and clarify such things.

 

Allidar let out a sigh and she looked over her own hand. The words of Tenbar left a sting within the air. She wanted to say out loud that some of Command does choose to not be as vocal with specifics with everyone. But her own fear of what could happen kept her own mouth silent. The tension now in the air hung and everyone could feel it. So she decided to change the topic. "I heard that within the next two rotations, there going to assign all current recruits to a command station. That should be fun to see where we all land?" @Moff Lurg

 

*** Command Room ***

 

Beck stood in the back of the room, choosing instead to not speak but listen to what everyone else in the room felt. He eyed Raven every so often as everyone spoke after her, attempting to get a sense of what she thought about everyone's comments. He wasn't even sure if he was allowed to be within the room, as it seemed more political than anything, or rather it focused on the policies that were to be enforced in the coming horizon. That wasn't him. He wasn't a policy man. He was a commander, a soldier and a tactician. At best he was able to lead forces and inspire them. The group before him seemed far more interested in other things. He was always one to simply enforce what they decided. And even then, he only ever followed Imperial rule. Raven and before her Denton. There was the small moment in between of the secret council which directed his movements as he was an insurgent commando. Back in those days, long before Raven became Empress, his sole job was to topple governments and cause mayhem through tactical advantages or assassinations. Since Raven, he learned to command squads and fleets, becoming a beacon for future commands of the Imperial academies. 

 

The Admiral now stood within the shadows, listening to every word spoken and taking mental notes on whom he thought he could actually follow if one was ever to push Raven out. The Vice Admiral Kolchak spoke his own words, but they were very much directed towards Raven. He eyed the man and strained to hear him through the speech pattern that was not as tangible as he'd like. I'd kill myself if I had to hear that constantly... He lifted his left eyebrow as the Vice Admiral finished. It was only then that he took a glance around and took notice of those whom were not present at such a meeting. Curious... He did indeed take another mental note of those of whom he thought would have been present for such a thing but weren't. Those of both Jedi and other military names were locked within his memory. HIs eyes then turned back to the Vice Admiral again. The cybernetic eye had him wondering what exactly happened to the man that lead to such a thing being present. But the thought wasn't worth pursuing at all, so he then turned back to look at Raven and her movements. 

 

He wondered what was going through her mind, as he was sure if he wasn't in the shadows, someone would be curious to his own thoughts. He looked down at his own red and blue titles that marked him off as an Admiral. Upon the white top imperial naval uniform, it surely stood out even within the dark shadows of the room. He now wondered how hidden away he truly was. Much like the rest of my life, I've slowly been moving towards positions that I never wanted yet always succeed at. I went from a simple super commando to an Admiral operating fleets and within a jurisdiction that I never stood with when I started. Is my own programing and conditioning slowly fading away? Is Raven somehow connected to it? He looked back at her again and then at the whole room. No. He wouldn't say anything yet. Until he knew more of what was actually happening and held some idea of where he stood, his own thoughts and opinions would remain with him alone. 

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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.” 

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While a certain middle-aged Admiral of the overthrown Galactic Alliance was busy breaking his own quarters and several fingers in his right hand, directly below him--literally, if one were to fall in a geosynchronous path several thousand kilometers, one would splatter against the ceiling of the room that her staff had commandeered within the Red and Black--the Jedi Grandmaster dutifully adhered to the advice of her mother. That is, that interfering with the internal affairs of the Imperial Knights--even for the sake of her own son--was almost certain to result in the formation of an irreparable rift between the Jedi Order and those who had resigned to join Nasra in her struggle against the Sith Lords.

 

That was a decision… in hindsight, had some virtues. Darex Trevelian, her old friend and her perhaps something more, might have been a Jedi of outstanding character and resourcefulness, but he was no soldier--never had been, and never would have picked up that particular trade. There was a gloomy, lonely corner of Draygo’s memory that brooded over the happy possibilities that might have existed if she herself had been somewhat less reckless, less selfish, and much less stupid… a corner of her mind that was currently being banished as the Jedi Grandmaster pondered a holomap of Nar Shaddaa’s vast Undercity.

 

In terms of navigability, the depths of Nar Shaddaa’s city-scape were even worse than Coruscant. It had known the same patterns of development as the capitol of the Republic; centuries after centuries of its denizens literally re-using the structures of past as the foundations of their future, the steel and concrete towers reaching ever higher in the atmosphere. Unlike Coruscant, which was the records-center of the ancien regime, Nar Shaddaa was typically dominated by one of the more notorious criminal cartels in galactic history. What this meant, was that the designers of the ecumenopolis were guarded only by the dimensions of the city-scape and their own consciences.

 

Which meant that the Undercity was a convoluted mess of forgotten and decrepit infrastructure, abandoned towers, and an utter dearth of any documentation whatsoever. It seemed only by the will of The Force that the moon didn’t collapse into a heap of rubble. The Imperials had attempted to rectify this teetering tower of duct tape and spot-welded Isk-beams--oh, they had tried very, very hard to institute some order into the place and some proper standardized documentation and surveys--but even Imperial ruthlessness took time to overcome millenia of jury-rigged power grids and tottering towers, to introduce the boring order of the grid system of Coruscant’s Upper Levels.

 

It wasn’t the city that Armiena was interested in. After hours of poring over old maps--some centuries old, others from surveys conducted by the military engineers of Admiral Slaughter’s own staff--the Jedi Grandmaster and several young and seemingly-tireless Jedi Knights managed to isolate an arterial network of ancient maglev tunnels that ran directly under the Red and Black, under the Imperial Knights’ compound, even under the vast landing pads that surrounded the Rebel headquarters, and many hundreds of kilometers under the inhabited portions of Nar Shaddaa’s city-scape. Those deep, dark tunnels--even if they were likely a perilous and claustrophobic journey to undertake--would make an ideal roadway to abscond with thousands of tons of ammunition and other materiel, entire brigades of ground troops… and possibly the entire central government-in-exile of the Rebel Alliance.

 

“Right, well done, everyone, hugs all around. And more caf, please.” Draygo shoved her peppery hair out of her face and blinked hard as several hundred red dots populated the holographic cityscape. Those represented minor starports and private landing pads from which the Rebel Alliance could safely withdraw soldiers without notice, as well as the arteries that those sapients could travel through the Undercity of the moon. A steaming mug was dutifully passed her way. Exhausted, the Jedi Grandmaster lowered her face through the holographic projection and onto the uneven surface of the workstation she occupied. Even a few minutes of restorative meditation--perhaps even a few hours of actual sleep--sounded so lovely. She closed her eyes...

 

Feet approached, much to her dismay.

 

“Grandmaster, news.”

 

“Only if a few billion people are in danger or the moon is collapsing. Please, Jaden, no.”

 

“There’s a bit of a congregation of the political leadership of the Rebellion in motion.”

 

“Not a politician, thank The Force.”

 

“Nasra, Outremer, that Naboo Queen, wosshername….”

 

“Politicians have meetings, Jaden, even if they’re a bunch of peri-pubescent teenagers--”

 

“--I’m seventeen.”

 

“‘Pologies. But it’s our job to do. Or do not. Never to try.” Armiena reached for the steaming mug of caf and jolted after the cup scalded her skin. Reluctantly opening her eyes, the Grandmaster stared into the unveiled face of her Miraluka aide. “There. Now you’ve done it. I’m awake.”

 

Armiena summoned The Force, and gripped the scalding cylinder of caf. Her friend and ally protecting her against the fierce heat that made the bitter, military-grade stimulants palatable, the Jedi Grandmaster chugged the entire oversized mug in a single, minute-long gulp. Protecting herself from the scalding heat of a simple beverage was really quite an grotesquely mundane misuse of The Force, and as the veteran Jedi slammed the mug down and wiped a dribble of the brown liquid from her chin, two of the withdrawing Jedi Knights stared in a mixture of horror and fascination.

 

“Right. We have an evacuation to carry out. Priorities after the region surrounding the headquarters are starports and the like, government officials and records, and as many men and munitions as possible. I need you to run over to… that Imperial Admiral… Klatchka?”

 

“Kolchak.”

 

“Him. Or his staff. This will need to be a joint operation--civilians likely to be less panicky if they see Imperial Knights and Jedi working together. Right? Go find him, Jaden.” As the Miraluka dutifully ran off in search of the Admiral's staff, Armiena closed her eyes and gratefully enjoyed a few minutes of quiet meditation. The Force might not have been able to banish the foul sensation that lingered after days of unending work, but it could at least keep her mind alert...

 

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As they continued through the dark tunnels, the sickening smell of decay washed over them in waves. Sometimes the smell of rotting flesh, a body laying here and there, discarded like some giant’s plaything. Now rotting, flesh peeling back from yellowed teeth, as the small scavengers fought over the remains. Only stopping to stare with beady red eyes as the Jedi master and her companion walked by. 

 

“I had no idea such a labyrinth existed down here. I knew it was hell for the soldiers clearing out the remains of the Hutt armies, but I was not involved in here the Nar Shaddaa campaign. Only Nal Hutta...” 

 

She left off the strange taste of bitterness that went through her mind like an arrow at the mention of that now nearly four year old fight. She had been the only jedi to heed the call of the Imperial Remnant. She let herself fall silent as her mind drifted and sifted through those thoughts. Her anger at the council for its decree of non intervention. Her disgust. Righteous anger. Her battle with the Sith Lord that had been on Nal Hutta, and her unheeded warning to the council that had come from it. Now where those stern faces that she remembered looking at her with some strange pity?

 

Dead. And if they had not been blown to stardust on Coruscant, or ritually slaughtered on the streets of Iziz, they were rotting like the corpses that lingered at the edges of her vision. 

 

She shivered and let the thoughts fall away. Delicately aware that her companion had likely felt each thought and feeling as they came. She looked back to Misal and smiled an apology. The sound of more legs in the distant overhead tunnels caused another involuntary shiver and her grip tightened on her lightsaber. 

 

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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Carson shrugged "Should be fun to see. I hope, so what do we even do in command position?" He played his last round as he was out then. He handed his food to Allidar "Want it, I'm full?" @Beck Pilon

 

(sorry the post is so short im pretty busy)

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Kirlocca found himself slowly moving around the facility, letting a bit of his memory flood within his mind as he walked from hall to hall, letting the Force speak very clearly and fluidity. His pain within his leg was still present, but the Force was sustaining him through it. A gentle reminder to him that no one was above making mistakes, or even losing things. The thought for a moment of old friends, Ara-Lai, Lei-Kim, Kitt and countless others came to his mind, reminding him of how long he had been at it. He remained, while others joined and transformed into the Force. For a moment, he was with them, apart of the living Force. But then a need arose, and those on this side of it pulled him back somehow. It was then that he felt it- Raven. He could feel her suddenly attempt to reach out and touch his mind through the Force. It was enough for him to calmly reach back and let her know that he felt her. 

 

In fact, she was closer than what he thought. A room above maybe? Reaching out to her opened him up a bit more to every Force user on the planet. He could feel them. Their pains, frustrations, worries and every other feeling slowly oozing into the Force, creating a strong current that was almost impossible to ignore once one realized it was there. He closed his eyes for a moment to breath it in, which was all he could do against it. Letting out a sigh, he opened his eyes and began to move towards Raven. Both of his apprentices were still within a recovery state within the Force, so he didn't feel rushed to be by their side yet. For now, it was beyond clear to him, Raven needed him. 

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Having been addressed directly by the Empress, Kolchak nodded, glancing about with both his good eye and his cybernetic one, before continuing. He took in the room, seeing it for what it was, secrets and stances laid bare beneath flowery words and grandeur. Yet, the battle-scarred intelligence officer knew his place; so when he spoke, it was to respond to that which he was asked. 
 

“Ze people of Mon Cal velcome ze liberation of vorld from ze Sith. Ze monsters ov pretender empire sought to crush spirits; but zhey failed. Even now, zheir monarchy has been restored and vorks alongside men and women ov true Imperial zhrone to ensure freedom for all. Zhey have already dispatch varships to zis vorld to bolster cause of freedom and preserve order against ze tide of Sith foolishness.”

 

Turning to look at the rest of the room, Kolchak tucked a fist into his open right palm in the small of his back. “Outer Heaven iz anozher matter. Such lawless villiany, debauchery, and open disregard for ze greater good has left deep deep furrows in vorld and people. Ze unrepentant are being purged. Zhose who vish new start, a new life, are being taken to allied vorlds of order. Zhose who wish to remain do so vith full support ov Naval Intelligence; knowing zhey are watched and zafe. Ze station is being rebuilt in ze image of Imperial unity, a bastion of hope, upon ze outer rings of heaven itself.” 
 

With that, Kolchak resigned himself to his place. His thoughts on the rebellion, silent for the time, allowing others with more political sway to speak. He had worked alongside many rebels, zealots and anarchists. He did not doubt the cause of their hearts to be true; but he knew that for many, fighting the established government was an ingrained way of life. One that would be hard, if not impossible, to give up. They would have their place as agents of order, wether they knew it or not. They would keep the peace while maintaining an ideology of their own absolute freedom, protecting the Empire and being silently protected by it.

 

As for the Jedi, like the Knights of the Empire, they were an eclectic group. He knew some would welcome working alongside the Empire with open arms; others would be wary of any who differed from their ideological dogma; no more or less dangerous than the Sith who they knew sought to extinguish. So when the conversation turned to the Jedi, he raised an eyebrow to add in brief, “Jedi and Sith, two sides of same coin. Vork together, but to trust zhem to govern invites ruin.”

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*** Mess Hall ***

 

Allidar looked at the food for a moment that was being offered by Carson. Her own stomach was pretty full, mainly due to how she got when she got focused on something else besides for eating, like she did with the conversation and card game. With a very slow head shake and a lift of her hand to pass on it, she spoke to Carson's other question. "We don't get a command, but rather get assigned to one. One of the many Admirals or Generals and their commands. We've all talked about Beck Pilon, the Admiral who ran us through the training scenario. Other Commands could fall under Admiral Kolchak, Admiral Slaughter, or a personal wing of the Empress. I heard the Imperial Knights also have a command, but it's only rumored at best." Tenbar leaned in a spoke in an excited voice himself. "And under those commands are others, like Captain's of their own squads." He then leaned back at looked up. "Getting assigned to any squad really would be a good thing for us." 

 

 

*** Command Center ***

 

Beck watched and observed the glance from Raven. She wanted to hear his opinion, he could tell. But such a time wasn't his place to voice anything yet. The two had come through much together. Different paths, but still underwent an awful lot. For the moment, he glanced over at Admiral Kolchak and listened in to what he had to say. His own personal thoughts were that Outer Haven was a massive undertaking, and he understood that Kolchak was far from done doing some work there. His command would be busy with clean and maintenance there for a good year. He was grateful that the undertaking was not assigned to him. Such a long term investment wasn't really something he was good at. He'd done it before, but it wasn't a good fit. For now, his own command needed to be retrofitted and filled back up. 

 

He then gave a small salute over to the Vice Admiral, and in turn, gave one to Raven. While his own voice was most certainly wanted to be heard by others in the room, now wasn't the time for that. He trusted and respected those within the room to get things done. He had other things that needed to be done, such as helping the evacuation process and assigning new recruits to their correct command wings. 

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She smiled softly, her thin lips tugging up to create creases along the side of her mouth, the right side sagging slightly from a still healing scar. It was the smile of satisfaction, perhaps a tad of pride as well. The pride of a knight who had succeeded in her task. Their lightsabers crashed, and the smell of ozone filled the air of the training room. Two jedi clashed at near the speed of sound, their movements a constant blur until they were both exhausted.

 

“Very well done Vox.” 

 

Her thin smile became a laughing grin.

 

“You have learned so much. And I do not know how much more I can teach you.” 

 

She shut the lightsaber off and tuckedin onto her belt.

 

“Do you feel that you lack anything. Anything that you feel you have not been taught?”

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((Misal Draygo post for @Sandy Sarna))

 

“An inevitable product of governments…” Misal paused at that word. Silence dominated for a few seconds as their pace quickened. “That view sapient beings as resources. Those that serve no immediate purpose are so much more easily neglected or sacrificed as a message. The absence of mutual commitment and trust begs for rot like this.

 

The Miraluka bent down with a groan and lifted the dead Twi’lek by his shoulder to get a closer look at the wounds. “No sign of lividity. He died recently. Trousers… if you can call them that… frayed around the ankles.” She withdrew one of her thin hands from its glove and ran it down the Twi’lek’s bloodied torso, arms and legs. “Irregular spattering, mixture of blood and filth. Defensive wounds on the wrists. He only had a vibroblade–no charge.” How Misal had determined with only a glance that the knife by the corpse’s side had emptied its batteries would remain a mystery. “He was likely a vagrant, victim of a pursuit predator. I expect that you will be far from their preferred prey.”

 

After the Miraluka allowed the body to hit the permacrete with a wet thud, a tinge of caution entered her voice as she continued her course, walking closer within the range of the Jedi’s lightsaber. “One hundred fifty meters. It was my expectation that we would find an intercept to the engineering crawlspaces under the Imperial Knights’ complex. Where…” Misal withdrew a small spotluma under her robes and began to scan the arched ceiling directly above the two Force-Sensitives. A glistening flash of chitin glimmered under the pure white light and something skittered away, managing to sound disgusted at the presence of artificial light.

 

“Oh-ho, not badly done at all,” her fingers wavered and then focused on a patch of steel-reinforced permacrete, the shadowy surface seemingly identical to the previous hundred meters of maglev tunnel. “Do you see? Miniaturized holoprojectors built into the ceiling, disguising a tunnel of… perhaps a meter diameter? Proximity sensors just beyond… they’ve cut away the ladder rungs… May I have a boost, Master Jedi?”

 

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Aidan snapped awake from his daydream, quickly recognizing his surroundings. He had been released from custody some time ago but his warden really, really wanted to read him some of their poetry. Or at least that's all Aidan remembered, his memory was foggy. Had he been...drugged? The thought horrified him, but then again he remembered that it was standard practice for holding Force sensitives. The Imperial Knights just hadn't been known for taking prisoners, so it wasn't really a procedure anyone would remember right away.

 

In front of him was a tray with snacks. Gingerly Aidan reached out, snatching up some meat and cheese, knowing full well that somehow he was probably still in trouble with people. After all, his actions had led to their time wasted...Aidan politely cut his jailer off, thanking them for the food and the poetry before briskly getting up and leaving. After claiming his effects, he sent a message to Sandy via comlink, and began to try to find his way back to the base proper.

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