Nar Shaddaa - Rebel Alliance Headquarters

[Moff Lurg]

Carson stood up and thought for a bit. "Yeah I think I will stay until we find him" Carson thinks about the statement about the Heavy Trooper thing. "Also yes I think I would be willing to go through that training." Carson let out a yawn from sitting on the floor of the ship for so long. He looked around for a bit before asking a question. "Who is the Intake Specialist by the way?"

 

(Sorry its a bit shorter I'm busy.)

[Vox]

Vox's mind was not at ease- that is to say he couldn't occupy it. He seen the Jedi before him was still weak, her condition seemed to have bettered however she wasn't completely healed. Vox followed Alcmène to a training facility, a large one which she immediately went on to find two weapons. Sabers from the looks of as Vox held one and inspected it. The woman then spoke about the Force which caught the lizards attention, he looked over to her and paid close attention.

 

Vox nodded as Alcmène finished and flickered his blade on. He focused himself, centering his mind and thoughts and casting away any negative emotions. As he let loose the darkness he held Vox could feel a tingling sensation and a sudden rush of energy flow through. He could feel a sudden calmness about him and almost all his doubt and worries washed away.

 

Vox focused the Force into his attack allowing it to guide his actions. With the sword low and just to the side of his leg, he swing upward in a controlled manner, swiftly slashing however having enough stability to quickly counter and defend himself. Though it was a spar and despite Vox being in touch with the Force, he still had much thought to work through. Nothing was a touch and go and he still had much thought on the subject of his people. For now he kept focus on the task at hand.

[Charlemagne]

Lady Tay'Lor stared blankly at Lady Cassandra briefly with pursed lips before she brought her slender fingers up to caress her chin in thought. It made sense, that Lady Cassandra and Empress Raven would test her in her struggles. After all, she was a Diplomat of House Charlemagne and an Ambassador for the Imperial Remnant. Not only was she an asset due to her adoptive status into a largely known Imperial House, but she wasn't human, which presented a broader spectrum of sympathizers in the overall concept. Especially in the eyes of alien allies.

 

"I see." She began to speak, an understanding undertone echoing in her soft voice. "It makes perfect sense when you put it such terms, Mi'lady. For me to even gotten as far as I did in terms with the Chiss Ambassador, speaks of my progress as one of her Majesty's Knights."

 

A brief silence encompassed the room as Lady Cassandra shuffled through the datapads laid about her desk and brought forth new Orders for Lady Tay'Lor, her muave gaze shifting down at the datapad. In her time away from Nar Shadaa, she hadn't realized how badly the war was beginning to turn against them. And as she shifted her eyes through the briefing, tears began to fall.

 

"Evacuation?" She questioned, her soft voice raising in disbelief. "Is the Empress sure of this?

 

Tay'Lor's heart felt as if it was going to leap from her chest as thoughts of leaving Nar Shadaa and thoughts of her Adoptive Homeworld, Alsakan, rushed through her mind. The latter, she gave up for Lady Raven and the Imperial Remnant long before the Sith laid claim to the Core Worlds. And now she was being asked to give up her second. As a dutiful daughter and Knight, she would of course, but it pained her deeply even as she calmed herself and wiped away the tears from her cheeks.

 

"Very well." She spoke again, her voice soft and humble as she knew there was no recourse once orders had been given. "I will be retiring to my Grandfather's Quarters if things change. But I must ask Lady Cassandra. May I inform him of the Empress's decision and request a place for him in the evacuation as an Imperial asset? As the former Head of House Charlemagne and with Alsakan under Sith Occupation, he is essential."

 

She knew what she was asking even as she gazed at Lady Cassandra, but without him, House Charlemagne would perish under the Sith's oppression, especially with the status of her family on Alsakan still unknown.

[Frond]

The tree-being stood, his eyes gazing upwards at the Jedi bastion. His thoughts were his own as they coursed through his botanical form, touching every cell wall as his visions of how to proceed churned about within.

 

The hustle and the bustle of the world passed the Neti by seemingly unnoticed. He paid them no heed. Their ways were not his own, their goals and dreams did not align with his, and their timelines flew by compared to the horizon-breaching visions of the timber.

 

Before he could act, Frond felt a presence invading the airspace of his present world, pressing at the edges of his mind as it reached into the cosmos between the stars. In the darkest recesses of his mind, Frond knew who was touching down a mere short-distance out of sight. The Jedi that had sought to train him, that had offered him shelter beneath the protections of the Jedi. Sandy Sarna had sought to prune and nurture the tree, to guide his growth along the trellis of the Jedi doctrines.
 

She was not alone. There was another presence that tugged at Frond’s conscious as well.
 

Touching down in unison with the Mind Walker’s former teacher. There was an edge that Frond immediately recognized. It immediately associated with the memories of when Frond wrestled with the darkness that he had carried within his heartwood. It had been a darkness from beyond this reality. It  had sought to consume the Neti on Ossus and had it not been for the challenge of Aidan Darkfire, Frond may have fallen to that darkness.
 

The Imperial Knight had challenged him, called his darkness to the forefront and fought to purge it. His master had been there to support him, to seek to guide his growth and pull him from the precipice. He had survived it, but Frond had lost a part of himself that day. He had left the order with nary a word to any but the healer who had helped keep him alive. He had left what he had been learning to return to what he had known; yet he found that he had grown beyond the simple existence of being a Mind Walker. This was where Frond was, and as much as he did not desire to confront the two who had been there at his moment of weakness; he knew they could help him now. Seeing them might bring some level of closure to the chapter that had led the ancient tree here, to Nar Shaddaa.

 

Turning slowly, Frond set his eyes beyond the skyline of the cityscaped moon and began to amble down the street. He passed through the people like a ship on the sea. He paid no attention to them, their presence was the reason he was here; yet his mind was focused on the looming darkness beyond the horizon and the presence of Aidan and Sandy descending to the planet. Making his way towards the landing pad,

 

Frond watched as their ship settled to the ground. He felt the presence of his friends, or the closest thing he had to such. With his face set somberly, he approached the craft, his twisted wooden body draped in a cloak of shimmering black foliage. He opened his mind to those within, offering a silent greeting on the winds of the force, warm and gray like the light of dawn just before it burst across the horizon. It was a greeting as twisted and mangled as the intricately woven vines and roots of the wildest locations of the galaxy, gnarled and complex, yet simple in it’s measure.  “Ice melts before fire, flickering flames of friendship, warmed is my heart now.”

 

[Moff Lurg]

@Sandy Sarna

@Aidan Darkfire

I just thought you didn't see my post that was impatient sorry

Edited October 6, 2021 by Moff Lurg

[Aidan Darkfire]

((You're good man, and I am a bit slow myself admittedly, trying to remind myself that I need to be posting daily and getting back in that habit. Best way to poke us is send us PMs on the site. That sends an email to my phone that I see relatively quickly.))

"Uhm, I think they said Lieutenant Peterson? Preston? Something like that. He'll be easy to spot, their uniforms are always just too clean."

 

Carson was sure to pick up the extra meaning there as a fellow uniformed serviceman. No battle. But as Aidan stood, he felt a familiar presence approaching the ship, reaching out to them. Aidan reached back with a greeting of his own, but knew he'd soon be able to speak with the old tree. He was still weary, but managed a grin.

"I think there's someone waiting for us that might be a bit more entertaining to meet with first. That recruiter can wait a bit." 

Aidan led the trio out of the shuttle straight into the sight of a large Neti, a creature few beings had ever seen in their lives, evidenced by most of the hangar crew staring as they went about their jobs. "Frond! You're better! You have no idea how good it is to see you again, my friend. You know Sandy, and this is Carson, we...sort of rescued him from Vernzah-Torrah, but more accurately we just gave him a ride. He's here to join up with the cause." Aidan turned back to Carson, gesturing to the large tree-creature. "This is Frond, a Neti. If I remember right he was working with Master Tobias Vos, but I don't remember if he had decided to join the Order," Aidan looked back to Frond, "have you?"

[Moff Lurg]

Carson waves at the Neti, not sure what to say. "I've never seen a Neti before, to be honest I never even heard of the species. Nice to meet you Frond" Carson thought for a few seconds. "You're a Jedi as well? I guess the Jedi really have repaired since order 66. And this hangar is really nice, never thought that the Rebellion was this organized either. I am glad I made the decision to join up, it's already seeming better than the Sith Empire, a lot better." Carson looks around at the surrounding hangar.

[Raven Nasra]

Raven inclined her head then looked back up to the Jedi Grandmaster. Amethyst eyes met the grey green in a moment of understanding then she looked back down at her own hand. A metallic object, covered in the soft black leather glove that she had worn since she had only been a child. A long and bitter career. But not one totally fruitless. She had found love after all, and that had to account for something. 

 

“My people are here, I will not abandon them to destruction and despair. I will be aboard the Command Ship. ” 

 

She would die alongside Nar Shaddaa if it came to that. The Sith would pay the heavy toll of this conquest. She let a small smile creep into the sides of her mouth. 

 

“Plus if we manage to defeat the Sith here and end their empire, perhaps it would be better to not see all of the work we put in fall to the inevitable infighting.” 

 

She shook the woman's hand.

 

“May the force be with you Grandmaster. Now let us see to the evacuation.”

[Frond]

@Moff Lurg @Aidan Darkfire

 

Frond’s worn face creased into a smile at the Imperial Knight’s warm response. He had not been entirely sure how it would have gone and a positive interaction was warming to his soul. Yet, his old acquaintance asked a question Frond knew would have come up eventually, ‘was he a Jedi?’ and more so , so did Aidan’s newfound comrade. 
 

Frond bowed his head in greeting, before turning his eyes from Carson to Aidan and back, “Like wind on the brow, warm and refreshing to feel, so too are my friends.” He smiled as he offered the greeting of pleasure at their arrival. Frond’s eyes left the duo and drifted over their ship. Spacetravel was not exactly something the Neti enjoyed, but he understood the necessity of it in the grand scheme. He took in the crafts lines and wear, nodding slowly in approval as he turned back to the others, their questions hanging in the air.

 

With a deep breath that rustled the leaves that draped about him like a robe in the wind, he responded. “I am no Jedi, different plains and paths are mine, the same Force we serve.” Explaining his fall from the Jedi ways would be difficult at best and one that Aidan would have some understanding of. Kt was not something Frond desired to do, at least not right now. Aidan had been there when Frond had lost his lightsaber, he would understand and if Carson was turning from the dark call of the Sith towards that of the light he was delighted to see the shift; especially with the looming darkness he felt approaching. A cataclysmic event was unfolding about them. Having Sandy, Aidan, and Carson on the side of light may help balance the cosmic scale. At least Frond silently hoped.

 

”Darkness looms beyond,” Frond spoke of the rending of the force itself by whatever was bound to unfold on this world, gesturing with a knotted knobby hand towards the sky, “we,” he gestured to the group, “are the storm breaking wall.” Looking forlornly downward for a moment, Frond raised his head to look at the others, “my saber was lost.”

 

The Neti’s lightsaber had been forged from his own heartwood and carried within it a crystalized darkness. It had been destroyed and Frond had not crafted another weapon. Now, he stood on the precipice of another physical engagement and he did not have the tool he had excelled with as under Jedi tutelage. He hoped that maybe these friends might help him acquire another blade so that he could stand in the gap and protect the weak and by doing so, stage off that which he had seen in his visions: death and destruction of such magnitude that force itself wept blood.

[Moff Lurg]

He thought for a few moments about Frond's lost lightsaber, then realized. "You could get a lightsaber from a Sith then heal the Kyber Crystal. Frond, so your a Grey Jedi?" Carson continues to look at the starfighters and soldiers all around the hangar. 

 

(sorry im just busy thats why it was short, it should be a lot longer in the future when I am not busy.)

[Sandy Sarna]

Sandy could not help but smile as she saw her old apprentice. Unchanged as always, a cryptic but open hearted creature. She smiled widely and gave him a bow, choosing not to openly embrace him in case he would see that as an affront from their last meeting. 

 

“Yes Carson, there are many ways to restore a lightsaber to duty, but this is the path for Frond to discover.” 

 

The Jedi order and the Imperial Knights kept crystals in stock at their bases and temples for those jedi that may have lost their lightsabers, but Sandy knew that Frond would not want such a thing. A crystal was a special bond for nature minded Jedi, even those that considered themselves walking the grey path. She looked sideways to Aidan and gave him a half hearted smile. 

 

There was much for them to discuss. 

[Queen Namari]

The walk home back to the prefab housing district was a long and troubling one. It was not an easy walk, and even as dawn began to break from behind the lurking planetary bulk of Nal Hutta, the queen’s mind was troubled. It was a long walk, and even though her shoes were comfortable, her feet were still aching as she silently slid open the door to her quarters to find an Imperial Knight frowning down at her with all the grace and kindness of a Bantha. 

 

“The Empress calls for you.” 

 

Queen Namari of the decimated world of Naboo choked back a gasp and quickly ran to her room for more appropriate clothing. 

_______________________

 

A dark uniform of the Naboo officer’s corps was what she chose. The high riding boots that matched the bloused dark pants with a dark leather belt with matching thinner strap that looped over her shoulder. The traditional S5 blaster pistol was tucked securely into the flap holster on her right side. She tucked her hair into a bun and hid it with a matching dark military cap. The familiar bright green ensign chevron of the Naboo royal arms being the only identifying mark over her left breast. Made of chromium around a corusca gem, it was one of the few military pieces of jewelry left in the treasury. 

 

When she emerged from the refresher she was met by the Imperial Knight and the surviving members of the Naboo officers corps, who wore matching uniforms of dark fabric. Naboo, and what was left of her military, as cerimonial as they were, would now officially join the Rebel Alliance. Marching to war beside the Imperial Stormtroopers of the Remnant, the Royals of Outremer, Hapan Guard, and the Galactic Alliance. 

 

_______________________

 

Arriving in the hangar, the military attache of Naboo made their way past the cluster of Jedi and Imperial Knights. They were a dark mass of officers, but the queen led them towards the citadel. She turned her head to see Frond, giving him a quick salute and handing one of her officers the badge on her chest. The dark skinned lieutenant ran over to where Frond was and handed the tree the Corusca gem. Before running back to his queen. 

 

It was time for war. And Naboo would do her part.

[Aidan Darkfire]

((Hey, if it's gotta be a short post it's fine don't apologize, but definitely when it comes time to do stuff especially like training try to get descriptive, but dialogue situations it can be understandable. If anything, try to aim for 4-5 sentences of description in the post (not dialogue), like either his surroundings, the sensations (his sight, smell, etc.), his thoughts, things like that.

Also, the intake officer will either be an Non-Player Character (NPC) played by myself or one of the Non-Force users (NFUs) of the Alliance.))

 

"Oh, I see. That seriously sucks...I'm assuming since you built one once, you can build another? We probably can easily find the parts around here..."

 

And even if Frond didn't, Aidan would happily let him borrow his dad's holocron to access the information. For whatever reason Frond always filled Aidan with a sense of awe, that such an ancient, abstract creature could even exist. The much younger Imperial Knight knew he could spend hours picking Frond's brain and debating the finer points of the Force's unknowns, likely learning things and seeing perspectives neither the Jedi or Sith would ever offer him. But they did have an agenda, they had things to do, and it would have to wait until later if he even got the opportunity.

 

"Of course, we need to find the intake officer waiting outside the hangar for Carson here first; while I don't mind being fashionably late for recruiters, I also don't want to come off as excessively rude. But, you're welcome to come with and afterward we can take a look at that saber. Up to you."

Aidan decided he'd give Frond the opportunity to join them, but either way he still needed to deliver Carson.

[MSA]

A presence would begin to surge within the Force on the humbled world of Nar Shadaa, a presence that would feel eeriely familiar and yet unknown in the same token of semblance. It carried knowledge in it's precipice, like a gentle thought crossing the threshold of the Force as it flows it's natural course across the surface of Nar Shadaa' and within the halls of the Red and Black. Misal Draygo @ObliviousKnight would know it's presence well enough, though feel it more clearly than before. And Armiena Dark fire would feel a haunting presence from decades past, one she likely felt imprinted upon her former Padawan, Jedi Knight Genesis Stormhelm. 

 

And for the Neti @Frondand company @Sandy Sarna, the presence would feel as an anomaly that coincided symbiotically within the natural flow of the Force, similar to the Neti. Yet, as for the young Imperial @Aidan Darkfire, within the confines of the thought that echoed, a dread would be present that encircled his surname, as if it carried a dire memory of his family within it. A simply focus upon that said thought, should he pressure it, would reveal the name of Aryian Darkfire.

 

But this presence did not flow locally, nor within the confines of the Red and Black District of the Imperial Headquarters. Instead, it was distant and unaware. And with this presence, came another slightly behind it's flow with a child like endeavor. Though it called to them all, it held no purpose nor knowledge of it as it leaked upon the Force, as a stream flowing into the larger river. It had felt their presence, but did not intend for it's presence to be felt in return.

 

At least, not yet.

[ObliviousKnight]

Draygo’s brow furrowed for just a moment as she rose. It had been a very long time since she had last been dismissed from a meeting, but even a Jedi Grandmaster was nothing more than a public servant in comparison to a head of state--deposed or not. She offered her hand, flesh squeezing soft leather and a hand that did not perfectly match with the lines of Nasra’s glove. It was likely a prosthetic, she realized.

 

“I think I understand, your Highness.” A short bow that caused her hair to sweep forward followed. “May The Force be with you.”

 

She departed, her comlink chirping several times as she passed Nasra’s secretary with a murmured thank you. And then another. Clearly, someone was attempting to gather her attention. She listened to the recorded message, expression hardening from distant thoughtfulness to a laser-focused scowl. Indeed, a Lord of the Sith had just succeeded tremendously in attracting her full and undivided attention--as potential threats to hundreds of sapients tended to do so. 

 

A few minutes later, Draygo had arrived at one of the briefing rooms within the Empress-in-exile’s headquarters suite. It was a long, high-ceiled chamber dominated by a fine wooden table of sparse ornamentation--at least it appeared to be real wood to her unpracticed eye--and several holoprojectors. Now, it was occupied solely by a squad of heavily-armored soldiers and a pair of astromech droids, all of whom were surrounding a satchel composed of a blood-stained robe. It was her robe, she realized with a scowl--it having been stained profusely with mud and slashed through the midsection.

 

“Thank you for summoning me,” the Jedi Grandmaster spoke to one of the soldiers. The man--or woman--or… it was impossible to tell even what species the sapient was, they were wearing so many layers of padding and armor. Presumably the short sapient was not a droid. “Yes, I can confirm that those… belonged to me. Take all the time that you require to have them cleared. I will… understand if they must be destroyed. If not, then I would appreciate it if you would have the lightsabers autoclaved before returning them to me.”

 

Draygo lingered for several minutes, only half-watching the Ord-Dorn squad scan the satchel for explosives, biologics, and chemical contaminants. Her eyes were distant, reflecting on the events of the last several months and being chased across the Outer Rim by the Sith Empire. Perhaps it had been foolish of her to confront that towering, grey-maned Sith Lord at Lehon--that perhaps her capabilities would have been better deployed elsewhere. At the time, however, it seemed necessary, that the Sith Lord would have certainly broken through the Temple’s defenses and embarked on a massacre of people who were counting on her for protection.

 

She sighed.

 

It had been months of evacuating Jedi outposts and cleaning up after the massacres inflicted on refugees and people whose only insult to the Sith Empire was in existing near a Jedi installation. None of those people nor their dwellings held any strategic value in the war; indeed, none of those people held any great value save for the fact that they were live and peaceful sapients in a galaxy that had gone mad with war. Attacking them served no purpose beyond inflicting terror for terror’s sake, or indulging the depraved predilections that had so often been exhibited by the Dark Lords of the past. Indeed, it appeared that very little had changed in the Sith Order.

It had no ideology, just excuses. It had no vision, just depravity. And until something changed within it, it had no future, just the bad memories that it continued to inflict on the rest of the galaxy.

[Frond]

Frond smiled at Carson, one of those smiles that an elder offered a child, delighting in their outlook on life. Sometimes it was accompanied by a pat on the head; although Frond refrained from such a thing. He was right. The trouble lie in parting a Sith from their blade and the echoes such an act may carry upon the force itself.

 

A response was not pondered over for long as their interaction was parted by the arrival of Frond’s former instructor. The smile on the weathered wooded being faded, replaced by a somber expression. He inclined his head deeply before Sandy, his remorse at the things to have befallen them oozing like sap from his core. Still he held the bow, probably longer than it need be to the point of awkwardness before rising; showing in his own way, the respect and reverence he still held for his former master.

 

At the sound of approaching boots Frond’s eyes turned, a twinkle shimmering in his eyes at the sight of his night strolling fellow samaritan regaled in the doorway. The officer handed a pristinely hewn, hard, and glistening gemstone encircled by chromium to the Neti before turning. To any onlooker, Frond knew the display might elicit eyebrow raises, but to he and the queen, a revelation of his own that brought a warmth to heart, he knew immediately that she had taken his musings and actions to heart. She too was doing what needed to be done for the betterment of the least of these.

 

Turning back towards Aidan, Frond tucked the valued jewel into a knotted black hole in his trunk, the wood twisting and closing around the badge of office, concealing it within Frond’s body until it needed reproduced for the betterment of the needs the force presented to the seer.

 

Even a monastic being as old as Frond knew the value a corusca gem presented. On a world like this, such a treasure could feed an entire neighborhood for years.

 

Frond inclined his head in thanks to Anne, his smile twisting upwards almost comically before she and her men hurried away and Frond was drawn back to Aidan and his words. He understood what was being said and knew that for many time was of the essence for no reason but promptness and respect. He gestured forward towards the bustling walkway where moments before the Naboo/Rebels had hurried away. He would follow along with them. To find a new weapon alongside the Darkfire was a blessing Frond would willingly embrace.

 

As they began to walk out, Frond looked at Carson, “Bows of light in rain; are Jedi, Sith, and many more,” Frond touched his own chest to indicate himself as he spoke the last line, “but a different hue.”

 

At the doorway to the hangar, Frond paused as he felt a presence seem to pass overhead. It felt like someone was reaching out on the force, searching for something. It carried hues of deepest purple and darkest black, mingled with shades of light. Frond inclined his head for but a moment considering what it might have been. Not a Jedi, nor a Sith. He put it from his mind as the Intake Officer came into sight. Frond stopped towards the back of their entourage, allowing the others to do what they needed to have done.

 

(( @Moff Lurg left it wide open for you to describe the scene. The Intake Officer is @Aidan Darkfire ‘s so let him control that fellow unless you have other arrangements with him; but here is a great spot to delve into what the scene is like and build off what others have said.))

[Moff Lurg]

The Intake Officer seemed like he had been in tens of bloody battles just in the past week, and Carson respected that. As the soldiers all around the hangar made noise and ran to their duties, the hangar was becoming quite loud. Carson salutes the Intake Officer. Not sure what to say Carson stayed silent and waited for the Intake Officer to speak. Then a flash of memories from when he was under the Sith Empire suddenly hit him for no reason it seemed, he guessed it was one last attempt at converting Carson back to the Dark Side, but Carson wouldn't give in.

 

(Was this a good post?)

Edited October 9, 2021 by Moff Lurg

[Aidan Darkfire]

((It's a good improvement! Most of us learned to write by literally observing each other and reading, the more you're exposed to reading and writing, the better you get, it just takes practice and time. If you enjoy it, don't quit! We don't care about skill here, we care about passion, brother, and it really makes me happy to see yours. Also this was meant to be up several hours ago, but homework this weekend is pretty crazy, I'm trying my best to ensure that I still have ample and active time for this.))

 

The group was approached by an Alliance officer who looked like he belonged on a poster, crisp uniform and razor close shave, datapad under one arm and an almost plastered smile that looked like it was hiding a mildly annoyed look on his face. He quickly snapped a quick salute to Sandy, before turning to Aidan. "Carson, right? I hear you're interested in our cause." Aidan pointed the officer towards Carson, while simultaneously pulling his bag strap to the side to display his rank. "Ah, apologies. Carson...Lurg is it? Lieutenant Donald Purifoy. Walk with me back to my office and we can get you all squared away. Don't worry, I'm going to make sure you'll be just fine." The lieutenant gestured, expecting Carson to follow.

 

As they left earshot of the group, Purifoy spoke up. "So, just curious, but that's rather conspicuous armor. There a story behind that?" ((Feel free to summarize if you like, and you're also welcome to have them arrive at his office in your post, the hangar is connected to the main headquarters so it's just going to be hallways ending in a cramped office.))

 

Aidan watched the two leave, eyeing Purifoy the entire time. He didn't trust recruiters, but there was something different about him Aidan couldn't quite put his finger on. It wasn't bad, which was surprising given his mistrust, but it was…different. Aidan turned back to Frond, a grin returning to his face. "You know, my dad left me a holocron that showed me how to build my saber. It had some interesting information on it, I'm sure it'd be useful. Would you like to-"

[Inquisitorius]

((Posting some of Aidan's actions here for dramatic effect and flavor seeing as both accounts are mine, and from here to the end of this narrative Aidan's actions may be described on both unless combat occurs at which point Aidan will revert fully back to his own account. Aidan should and will still have the majority of his actions described in his posts.))

"Lieutanant Aidan Darkfire. By order of the High Inquisitor, you are hereby under arrest pending further investigation. Please surrender your lightsaber and come with me. I will not ask again."

Aidan turned to see two very large human guards flanking a blue-skinned Twi'lek woman, all of whom wore the armor of the Imperial Knights. Her rank marked her as the equivalent of a Lieutenant Colonel, and she looked rather out of place as high ranking persons didn't usually conduct these kinds of issues. As Aidan opened his mouth to speak, the woman held up her hand. "Save your explanation for the record. I am here as a courtesy to the Grandmaster, you already know very well what would happen were you not related and you need to realize this courtesy is running thin. For your own sake, lieutenant, just come with me."

Aidan was rather speechless. He knew this was something that was coming, but he didn't expect it nearly this soon. He nodded, turning to the others with concern on his face, but it was clear he wasn't going to fight this. Slowly he handed his lightsaber hilt to one of the guards. "Frond, Sandy knows the door lock combination to my room, you're welcome to borrow the holocron."

 

The Twi'lek spoke up immediately as he was finished. "Unfortunately your personal belongings are subject to this investigation and are at this time under lockdown. Your room code has changed, and access cannot be granted until after the proceedings." This hit Aidan rather like a gut punch. It all felt surreal, like he was in a dream, but this was simply the reality he'd created for himself. With a sigh, he turned and left with them, still processing everything. His journey would end in a holding cell...for the time being.

[Sandy Sarna]

Sandy could feel the saliva in her mouth dry to ash as she watched Aidan hand his lightsaber over to the Imperial Lieutenant. Her heart pounded in her ears, driving away every other sound other than the familiar pounding of battle. It was strange how instinctive it was, that even here in the heart of the Rebel Alliance, she was ready to draw her saber and cut someone down. She shuddered at the thought. If it had been even two years before she would have just gone and started a civil war within the Alliance to reclaim a lost love. 

 

How strange it was to grow up and realize that sometimes she had to let the things she loved go. That did not mean of course letting him get hauled off to some prison in the Red and Black and never seeing him again. There was a choice of paths here, and as a Jedi Master she had to choose the one of reason and non violence. 

 

“Lieutenant Colonel.” Her voice was calm, but carried the sharpness of a vibroknife. “Please list the charges, so that we may provide adequate defense during his trial.” Sandy’s eyes were as hard as emeralds. If the Imperial wished to make her use her Jedi and Military connections to dig up the info she would. But Sandy had served beside the Imperial Knights for years, and she knew that they would respect her as one of the few Jedi to actually fought the Sith before the fall of the Galactic Alliance. 

[Inquisitorius]

"Vorsha. Lieutenant Colonel Vorsha, General Sarna. Unfortunately I cannot speak to the full list of charges as the investigation is still ongoing, but at the very least dereliction of duty and theft of Alliance property. There will be no trial, only a sealed hearing, but someone of your rank would be welcome to make a statement when the appropriate time comes. Good day, General."

With that, the group turned and left.

[Frond]

Frond watched as Carson went with the recruiter knowing the young man’s life was about to change, and potentially shorten, exponentially forever.
 

He appreciated the offer of the use of Aidan’s father’s holocron. Such a tool would be quite useful, and yet; he did not have much time to consider it as a band of inquisitors came into sight and announced the arrest of Aidan Darkfire. A slight eyebrow raise was the only sign of the surprise that Frond acknowledged; standing still and firm, like a tree, as he watched the potential chaos unfold. Aidan Darkfire was a key defense against the rending of the force by the soldiers of darkness that loomed on the horizon. Incarceration would complicate things.
 

Frond watched longingly as Aidan handed over his weapon without a fight. It was something he desired for himself, Aidan’s or another. It did not matter

Such an act struck him as odd, he did not think a Jedi, much less a Knight would so willingly part with such a thing. Frond knew, with time, this too would pass by. Aidan would weather whatever storm this was. The Knight’s soul was still enveloped by the light side of the force. Frond would have to figure out the holocron on his own.

 

. . . or not. The securing of Aidan’s quarters presented another issue; albeit, a minor one. If his quarters were also under lockdown, Frond wondered what else might be at the root of this arrest. The ways of shorter-lived species sometimes confused him.

 

The whole ordeal took less than a minute before Sandy was questioning the lead arresting officer. Frond turned his head from the officers and Aiden to Sandy. Her question made sense. Her tone carried an edge that was almost cutting. His eyes drifted from the Jedi Master to the Knight and back. There was something there, something more, but he could not put his tendrilled finger on it. Yet, neither of them were fighting, at least not yet.

 

Peace. It was a grand thing. Those who preserved it were also grand. Yet peace was not always the path of the force, the path of nature. Peace would prevail, but storms would blow through and the strong would weather it. Together, they were even stronger.

 

The partial list of charges was something Frond had heard before. It was a partial answer. It was an answer that left things open for development, for ‘investigation’. Was such a thing a witch hunt? So instead of opening his mouth to question what right these force users had to take Aidan, to ask if they were blind enough to not see what storm was rolling in on the horizon and the part they were playing in dividing the forces that had to stand against it, he turned. Frond offered a reassuring nod to Aidan and a knowing look to Sandy, the twinkle of mischief glimmering in his eyes. Without a word, Frond made his way back into the hustle and bustle as the world itself readied for war.

 

Frond was not a Jedi nor was he an Imperial, bound by either’s code or law. He was a follower of the force. The force called him to this world to stand against the surge of those who sought to alter the path of the cosmos. He could not do it alone. So Frond knew what he needed to do, to preserve the unity of the worshipers of light and bind together those who sought to prevent the tearing asunder of the fabric of the force itself. Reaching out on the force, Frond searched for the font of knowledge that was the holocron Aidan had offered to him. Moving towards the lines of barracks where the Imperial Knights housed themselves, Frond moved with caution and purpose, unsure what he would meet at the end of his trek.

[Moff Lurg]

Carson followed the recruiter through the hallway with lots of commotion of moving soldiers and such. He slowly walked into the cramped room with the recruiter, then spoke. "So... what do I do now?" Carson waits for a response and looks around at the cramped room. He thinks about how this recruitment might go, and wonders if they will for sure let him into the Rebellion considering his past with the Sith Empire.

 

(sorry its short again, I'll try to get a longer one in next time since I'm busy its short.)

[Aidan Darkfire]

((NPC actions for Moff Lurg))

 

Lieutenant Purifoy shot Carson a wry grin across the desk they were both seated at. "Well, now is when we go over paperwork and the like. Job selection, that sort of thing. We'll also run you against some easy and painless background checks to make sure you're not a spy or something, but that's just routine stuff, it's not like the Sith have actively tried to do that against us. They're more interested in brute force, it seems, and all the luckier for us, right? A smart brain wins a fight any day."

 

Purifoy slid the datapad to Carson to enter his information on, mostly standard biometric data, but there was also a conspicuous question near the bottom: Have you at any time ever been a member of the Empire, Sith Empire, Black Sun, or are otherwise wanted on felony charges in the galactic proper? If so, please explain:

 

Meanwhile, the lieutenant turned to his holonet interface, pulling up relevant forms from the Alliance database that covered what kinds of jobs were available.

Edited October 12, 2021 by Aidan Darkfire

[Moff Lurg]

Carson entered his information and entered the information on being a trooper of the Sith Empire, and entered the information on how he left the Sith Empire by being converted by the Jedi Sandy Sarna and Aidan Darkfire, Carson entered all of his information then looked at the list of jobs available, before stating "I would like to become a heavy trooper in the Rebellion." Carson looked around the room thinking about the training he would need to become a heavy trooper, but he believed it was worth it because that's what he really wanted to become, a heavy trooper in the rebellion. Carson looked back at the recruiter waiting for a response.

Edited October 11, 2021 by Moff Lurg

[Aidan Darkfire]

((NPC actions for Moff Lurg))

 

Purifoy's eyebrows slowly raised as he began reading down the sheet, wordlessly plugging a lot of information into his holonet terminal. Eventually he spoke, but his focus or gaze didn't leave the terminal.

"You know, I was prior Empire. Before the Sith took over. We worked with them, sure, and I think the idea was to use their power to accomplish things the military alone couldn't, but...yeah. Those were...those were dark times. It took losing my brother and his family for me to see that, but at least I came around to my senses eventually, I suppose. But...I get it."

His voice was different, softer, lower, almost as if he didn't want to even acknowledge what he was saying. "Okay, so your service record isn't associated with our known war crimes list, which means you're okay in our book." More keystrokes. "And...heavy infantry. You're in luck, they have a new training window coming up tomorrow for the next batch of recruits. Okaaaay..."

 

After a few more moments, Purifoy grabbed a datapad from a nearby stack and reached into a box at his feet to pull out an interesting device. "Right. This datapad has all the information you'll need to meet up with the training group at its muster time tomorrow, to include a list of gear you're expected to bring. And this other thing here is a holocomm, some newer device that pretty much is a mobile holonet access point and a comlink. Keep that on you in case we need to reach you for any reason. The only thing you have left is to visit the armory for your gear, just make sure you use the proper entrance labelled 'Armory, initial issuing', they get testy if you try to use the main entrance and you don't know what you're doing. You're assigned to bay 37 in the barracks, which is in the new annex wing, and you may even have the whole five-man room to yourself initially as we're still in the process of filling those."

 

Purifoy stood up, concern on his face, but not over Carson, rather for Carson. He didn't want anything bad to happen to the guy on his first day, especially given his past and how likely it was to be a sore spot for others who found out. "Also, I'd recommend losing that armor sooner rather than later, and if asked just say you were working undercover. Any questions?"

[MSA]

The veil between light and dark had always been a thin one, capable of seeing one side from the other with a near incapable ability to truly tell the two different aspects apart. And for many, it's threshold could be crossed without conscious not knowledge. Only those who could truly see it's precipice became weary of it, and some were capable of walking the thinning line that was the veil. Since the time of Aryian Darkfire, the Imperial Knights were the closest the Galaxy had come to know capable of this, very few outside these three Orders capable of threading so lightly. One of those was the man that now stood at the Gates of the Imperial Headquarters.

 

Scorpio held no true reason to be standing here, no longer a Jedi nor Sith, and definitely not Imperial. Closest he came was during his active duty days as a Alliance Lieutenant shortly before the fall of the Galactic Alliance. And yet, he felt drawn here as he gazed upon its walls from beneath his conical hat. He could feel Armiena Darkfire @ObliviousKnightHe could feel @Aidan Darkfire. He could feel the Neti @Frond. And he could feel @Sandy Sarna. Powerful presences in the Force and two held a tie to his very own with the third something akin to his own path. And so with Railyn strapped in on his back, he made his approach.

 

A Guard stopped him as he neared the entrance's barrier, questioning his identification and his reasons for approaching the Imperial Headquarters. Scorpio smirked beneath his hat, pulling forth his ID and handing it over. The Identification Card it's self was very old, nearly a decade and a half, with the Jedi Insignia partially scratched away. The picture it's self was of a youthful Knight where now an aged man stood, causing confusion to grow upon the guard's face. Scorpio's slender fingers reached up and turned the card around to reveal prints of his thumbs that could be verified in the Jedi database next to a scuffed barcode before releasing the ID for the Guard to verify.

 

As the verification was made, a small alert would be sent to the Grandmaster's @ObliviousKnight personal communication device with a watchlist notification. It stated: Scorpio Armegedon, Knight; Padawan to Nom Anorus, Exiled. Reasons: Restricted. Death: Onderon; Dragon's Gate.

[Beck Pilon]

Beck walked down the hall along with Captain Isiah as the orders came in. Evacuation? Must be serious. The Admiral gave a slight look over at Isiah, to which the younger captain only shrugged his shoulders. "Neither of us are in the command room. Who knows." Beck made slight eye motion that would have come across as annoyed to anyone passing by, but to those who knew him would have known it was more out of wonder. "Either way, the priority is pretty high. I wonder if the Empress knows her plan already. Better get a move on it. I doubt my entire command is rested enough, so they'll need a push. Would you mind giving the initial push? I think they're tired of me." Wouldn't say tired, but i believe that a break could be used. I'll get right to it." Without another word, Isiah left and went down another hall to get Beck Pilon's command moving and ready for the evacuation plan being issued. 

 

As he turned a corner, he saw some Imperial Knights moving through the halls, not really focused on any of the commands being issued right now. He doubted they would even be assigned to such a task anyways. He stopped his own movement to let them pass by him, as he did he looked into a room that was dealing with what appeared to be a new recruit. "Poor time to join, but then again, when is a good time?" The words were only to himself, and not really loud enough to get heard by anyone else. He decided to step in and observe how the new recruit @Moff Lurg would handle the assignment being given to him. He wondered if the Empress would need him, but decided that taking some time to observe the newbies might be more useful to his time. Regardless, all of High Command had his comlink. They would signal him if there was a need. 

[ObliviousKnight]

“Everything checks out, Grandmaster.” Armiena’s eyes snapped upwards and she took a deep breath, having been snapped out of a standing meditation by the work of the Ord-Dorn unit. “No sign of anything on our scanners, biochemical or explosive. No tracking devices. We’ll run them through a quick plasma decon just in case--probably have them at your ship in twenty minutes or so.”

 

The satchel was handed off to a delivery droid, who immediately set off to have the weapons decontaminated. In fact, the two lightsaber hilts had managed to race the Jedi Grandmaster back to her ship, and the same delivery droid was waiting at the boarding ramp of Shippy McShipface, somehow managing to appear impatient despite its perfect posture and expressionless face.

 

Armiena took the hilts of the lightsabers into the workshop of her ship. She observed the hilts of her lightsabers with a skeptical eye. The unit that she’d been given by Master Vos, thankfully, had been unmolested by the Sith despite having been left behind on Lehon. The hilt that she had been granted by Emily Zsahra, however… its condition was best described using exaggerations such as “into a million pieces”. The hilt had been stomped forcefully by a Sith warrior under the benefits of Force-enhanced strength, and the creature’s armored boots had sent hairline cracks through the few remaining fragments that remained relatively intact. The rest of the hilt had been shattered into metal shards, recognizable only by the intricate acid-etchings of their original forging.

 

Despite the destruction of the hilt, the internals of the lightsaber--the electronic components and focusing crystals and everything that required the skills of a Force-Sensitive individual--appeared intact. The focusing crystals might have been out of alignment, but that was a relatively simple fix, not a complete reconstruction that would require days of meditation and careful work.

 

The Jedi Grandmaster was determined to save the hilt, however. If there ever came a time that the two women met again, Draygo preferred to return the weapon intact.

 

Piecing the fragments together one shard at a time, Draygo wiped the muck and sand of Lehon off each of the shards with a microfiber towel and laid them next to each other. It was tedious but essential work, and it required hours of delicate handling. When they were all tidily laid out in a two-dimensional approximation of a cylindrical hilt, the Jedi craftswoman spilled out a small pouch containing a powderized tungsten alloy onto the bench. She had decided that actually reforging the hilt, would be a task fraught with potential errors and would almost certainly ruin the ornamentation of the hilt--however, sintering the powder of a reinforcing alloy into the cracks between the fragments would not only preserve the acid-etchings, but would strengthen the hilt.

 

It would, however, be a repetitive task that nonetheless required perfect attention to detail. A single error in alignment would ruin the entire hilt and necessitate a complete reforge. It was for that reason that Armiena, for once, had shunned her ever-present mug of coffeine for decaffeinated tea. Taking a deep breath behind the filters of her breath mask, the Jedi Grandmaster sank into The Force.

 

The process began with mixing the tungsten powder with spray canister of ultrapure water and ceramic powder to create a roughly homogenous slurry of tungsten particles.

 

Seizing two shards of the hilt with The Force--the vices that this workbench possessed were far too imprecise to be trusted with this kind of delicate work--Armiena pressed the two fragments together. Then she added another fragment to that joining grasp. And then another metallic fragment. And another. Her jaw muscles working out of anxiety and effort, the Jedi Grandmaster joined the dozens of pieces together until they had at last formed a nearly-complete facsimile of the lightsaber’s completed form--complete, save for the recharging socket and the empty cavity that would house its focusing chamber. Draygo then sprayed over the entire cylinder with the tungsten slurry. Maintaining her grasped, she allowed the mixture to flash-dry under the intense lamps of the workstation and delicately swept away the excess with a simple hand-brush.

 

Next came the actual joining of the fragments. Triggering the workstation’s furnace, plasma torches within ignited and the temperature within its armored chamber soon increased to thousands of degrees. Within the joining surfaces of the fragments, the powderized metal was melted into a nearly-homogenous semisolid, fusing the particles together and compacting the joints until they formed a single cylindrical plate. The only evidence that the hilt had ever been broken would be a few silvery traces of metal that Draygo had failed to obliterate with her sweep of the hand-brush.

 

And then she waited, clenching the cylinder with her Force-grasp until the heat of the metal cooled out of terms best used to describe volcanic activity and towards a temperature that could be safely handled. Armiena plucked the lightsaber hilt out of thin air and gave it a weak smile--the hours of continually manipulating dozens of tiny sharps through The Force had been an immensely draining task.

 

The remainder of the work, fortunately, was simple. The crystals only required a small realignment to be properly focused. As the electronic components were still intact, installing them was merely a matter of aligning the circuitry with the delicate internal catches that were built into the hilt. A click of its ignition switch gave birth to a bronze blade--

 

--and then the Jedi Grandmaster immediately extinguished the weapon and sat down hard at the workbench. This had been a long, exhausting work, and the day was not yet at an end.

 

_____________

 

While her daughter was lost in the fugue state of reforging a lightsaber, Misal Draygo limped along the corridors of The Red and Black. Despite the fact that her heavy limp could be heard from several meters away and she periodically grasped at a wall to steady herself, she somehow never managed to attract the suspicion of any Rebel personnel. Even if the woman was technically not a member of the Rebellion, Miraluka clerks were so common within the Jedi Order that no one commented on her ability to access portions of the headquarters complex normally reserved to the Imperial Knights. Besides, the black-robed Miraluka was so quiet and unobtrusive, so certain in her movements, that it simply occurred to everyone who came across the older Force-Sensitive that she must have belonged.

 

Some twenty meters away from her grandson, the black-clad Miraluka paused at an occluding corner in the corridor and listened. Leaning heavily against the wall to take pressure off her mostly-healed leg, she pressed her lips together in dissatisfaction. It was not entirely surprising that Aidan, always having possessed something of a rebellious, impulsive streak, had managed to land himself in disciplinary difficulties within the Imperial Knights.

 

Misal had much to learn before she could take intelligent action. The Miraluka paused and waited a minute while the plastoid boots of men-at-arms departed.

 

At last satisfied that her presence would not be observed by unfriendly parties, the Miraluka rounded that obscuring corner and limped towards the young Jedi Master. She nodded towards the young blonde, her veil trailing in wisps around her jaw. “Irksome. Perhaps inevitable, however. Before we can take action more intelligent than that impulsive young Lasat, there will be much to learn. Please, walk with me and we can begin.”

 

Edited October 14, 2021 by ObliviousKnight

[Frond]

No one seemed to pay any mind to the wooden man that shuffled through the hallways of the Imperial Knights’ quarters. Just another force user, same as them. Jedi, Knights, and several other brands of mystic and religious types were not an uncommon sight about the base. Some were force users, some charlatans, some truthful devotees, to the undiscerning eye it was hard to tell; if one even cared. They were all here for different reasons, but part of the same cause. They were not going to live under the oppressive thumbs of the Sith Empire. 
 

And so Frond shuffled, his cloak of black leaves rustling in his wake, down the hallway, his head down, his eyes sweeping back and forth. His mind swept outward, searching, feeling. He could feel signs that Aidan Darkfire had been here, had been all over this place. It was not what he was looking for. Aidan had said he had a holocron in his quarters, his father’s. It was that that Frond was reaching out for, feeling for, searching for. And so he shuffled onwards until he found the quarters. The Aurebesh nameplate next to the door made his looking significantly easier to determine that he was, in fact, outside the right room. Frond was surprised that there were not any guards, Knights or soldiers or anything else, standing watch. After what had been said at Aidan’s arrest, Frond had expected something more. 
 

Trying the door, Frond found it locked. The keypad flashed an angry red three times whenever Frond tried to mash a random code. At least the agent had not been lying about the door lock.
 

Frond leaned his head against the crack where the door and wall met, the full weight of his body pressing down on the crown of his wooded cranium. Frond sighed. It could never be easy, could it? He just wanted to help his comrade. Lifting his hand, Frond ran it down the door, across the slivered seam. His viney, knobby tendrilled limb paused as he reached the lock. Inclining his head to the left, with a scraping of bark on steel, and then the right, Frond checked to see that the hallway was clear. It was. Not a camera or a being in sight.
 

As a shapeshifter and a plant, Frond’s tendrils began to grow, to creep like strangling vines into the crevice. Tiny shoots worked their way between the door and the framed wall, growing and elongating as they twisted and curved chaotically. They ensnared the locking mechanism and pierced into the room beyond. There they found purchase. There they began to grow, strengthened and quickened by the very will of the force. Frond’s limbs swelled. The wall, the frame, and the door began to creak. Their cries echoed down the empty hallway, mingling with guttural grunts of pain from the tree-man, as the durasteel stressed beneath the growth of nature and the power of the cosmic ruling force. Within minutes ripples appeared in the door and cracks in the frame, growing and swelling until with a cracking bang of sheering and releasing metal, the lock popped and the door jumped it’s tracks.

 

Pulling his hand back, Frond exhaled heavily, his leafy cloak rustling like a gust of wind had just blown by; his entire body rearing back as his tendrilled growthy hand began to return to it’s normal shape. Had Frond been able to sweat, he would have been soaked, the sheer force usage an exhaustion upon his body. Looking at the breached room, Frond carefully stepped over the buckled door. 
 

Inside, the room was a mess, as if someone had left in a hurry. Upon initial glance, the Neti did not see anything that screamed to him that is was a sign of ill-intent, darkness affiliation, or criminal mischief; yet, he knew such things might be subtle.

 

The first thing that Frond was drawn to, that which Aidan had offered him to retrieve, was the holocron. Gingerly Frond plucked it from where it sat and held it up to the light as if he was a scientist analyzing a specimen. After a moment, the tree-being lowered the device and nestled it in a freshly open knothole in his trunk. Turning, Frond surveilled the rest of the room. He began to open drawers and move the few pieces of furniture there was, searching for any hidden treasures or secrets that might be. He extended himself upon the force as well, probing the room for something that might seem out of place. He found nothing.

 

Kneeling down, Frond peered beneath the bunk. There were a few mislaid items, a bag that might have been hastily shoved there but was empty when flattened, but not much else. Not much that is, until Frond pulled the bag out and a case clopped to the floor. Frond regarded it fr a moment. It seemed heavier than one would expect; but nothing else seemed terribly odd about it.

 

Stooping, the Mind Walker picked up the case, feeling the uncharacteristic weightiness of the smooth wooden shell against his own. The thing had caught the aged tree’s curiosity. Feeling for the latch, he popped it open and flipped open the box, the lid catching halfway back. Almost instantly, Frond’s face wrinkled as the metaphysical odor of darkness wafted upwards from the inside, shrouded by the same neuranium lining that was nestled between the wooden exterior and velvet  interior. Looking downwards, Frond saw a mask and a pair of saber hilts. His eyebrows raised in shock. Something like this should not be in the possession of an Imperial Knight, much less stashed in one’s personal quarters. Frond knew that much. The odor of darkness about the items was faint, but present. Such a case could could easily condemn the man who had helped wrest Frond from the consuming power of darkness within his own weapon.

 

Frond snapped the case shut, containing the dark presence of the items within the signature containing metal. Removing the holocron from his chest, Frond swapped it for the case. It filled the void, an icy chill nestled within his core. Wether that chill was real or Frond’s own imagination knowing what he was doing remained to be seen.

 

The wood closed about the case until the knothole vanished, it’s lines blending with the grooved bark of the ancient tree.

 

With the holocron in one hand, Frond grabbed the datapad from atop the desk with the other. He did not know what might be on such a device; but seeings as how the room had been locked for investigation coupled with Frond’s own discovery of the dark-oozing sabers and mask, Frond figured it was a good bet.

 

Stepping out of the room, Frond shuffled off down the hallway. Now it was time to get out of here and address his discovery.