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Nar Shaddaa - Rebel Alliance Headquarters


Raven Nasra
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It would certainly not do to reveal herself in the force this close to the Imperial Knight stronghold. Plus, Sandy had always considered such trivial use of the force a tempting and evil thing. The pathway to the darkside was full of such easy actions, so the Jedi master relied on her own natural strength to do the job. With only a little difficulty she picked the older woman up and pushed her up until she was able to grab onto the remains of the ladder to pull herself up. Sandy herself pulled herself up, hand by hand until they were both crouched on the next level. Right at the edge of the proximity sensors. 

 

It was then that she felt a sudden change in the back of her mind. A conscientiousness. Not too far away, perhaps a dozen levels above. It was a familiar feeling, of a person she dearly loved. Then her commlink buzzed from its place on her belt, and she flipped it open. She scanned the words rapidly before snapping it back closed.
 

“It would appear this was all for nothing Misal. They just released him…”

 

She let out a frustrated sigh. Imperial internal politik never made much sense to her, but perhaps the higher levels of the moff councils had actually been alerted to the clear violation of protocol and had slapped down the warrant with due prejudice. She slumped against the wall and let her mind reach out to Aidan. 

 

She gave him the feeling of reassurance, then assured him that she would see him soon. 

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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Raven let her eyes close for a moment as she felt the questing presence of Kirlocca in the back of her mind. It was not a strong desiring presence, but one filled with the resolve of a man long experienced in war and conflict. He wanted to see her? She was not great at interpreting the feelings that came quickly and faded just as quick. Could she risk it? Well the Jedi Council would likely find out about this meeting soon enough. And if there was someone that she could trust with giving actual usable advice it was Kirlocca. She let the image of the meeting filter through the force to him. If he wanted to join he would need to be prepared. There were dozens of very grim expressions in the picture. Even the young queen of the Naboo looked concerned. But they also had a different card up their sleeve. They had the son of the Jedi Grandmaster in the ranks of the Imperial Knights. He would also have a good and realistic opinion on the matter of Galactic Government. She whispered instructions to her bodyguard to inquire after young Aidan’s location then turned back to the Admirals and heads of state. 

 

“We have seen the evils of the Jedi order in our lifetimes. I saw the ruin of Kuat when the rings fell, when Coruscant was left a slagged mire of duracrete ashes during the last civil war. But I should warn us about this. Those Jedi are not the Jedi we have beside us in this fight. They are not the genocidal maniacs we faced before the battle of the last death star. The last of those died at Coruscant.” 

 

They would need to watch them like a hawk. But surely they were not enslaved to the idea of a democratic government right?

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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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“True, a Jedi knight and her apprentice saved me at Naboo. Whatever Hubris caused their almost c complete destruction at Coruscant has surely played itself out. Seven hells, the new Jedi Council have shown themselves most eager to enter the thick of it beside Imperial soldiers. They are not fools, they will not plunge the galaxy into another war just because they disagree ideologically with a head of state being a monarch.” 

 

She let her young eyes scan the grim looking faces. 

 

“They would not fight a war they would be certain to loose. We give them reassurance that their planets, their people will be able to self rule under a galactic government and they are certain to not reject it. If anything this would allow them to flourish like they have never been able to before. I do not see them rejecting the proposals laid out here. But then I am young and have not seen the true nature of the Jedi order. They have learned from their errors. Or at least I hope they have.” 

 

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Aidan felt her mind touch his, a refreshing feeling after being exposed to ysalamiri. He didn't quite know where he was, but reaching out with his own senses he used Sandy as an anchor to at least orient himself to her. He was confused when he realized she was mostly below him by several stories, but he knew she had more than enough time to explain ...just like Aidan also had.

 

And boy would he need to explain some things.

 

Putting that inevitability out of his mind, he set about getting to her, something that might prove to be an interesting challenge as he wasn't sure the stair access went all the way down there.

((Getting the ball rolling, setting up for a Misal post if wanted, or a Sandy continuance if not, whoever replies can assume me showing up at their leisure or I can do it in my next post.))

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Kolchak returned a brief salute to Admiral Beck as he took his leave. He secretly wished he had reason to depart as well, his report complete. He did not; and his presence in this meeting had not been dismissed, signaling he was still desired on some level.

 

He knew of the Jedi. He had met many. The Jedi, the Sith, the Knights of the Empress, they all clung to an unchecked ideology beyond that of the rule of law, of equality and justice for all.


‘At least the Knights could be reigned.’ he mused to himself silently.

 

There were good ones amongst the ranks of the orders. He knew that. He knew some of them. He had also played witness to those powers left unchecked. Sorcery and wizardry had no place in a true government. His thin lips hardened in a straight line as he listened.

 

“Ze Jedi,” he added slowly, his bio-mechanized mind whirling as he chose his words carefully, “allowed Sith to destroy Mon Cal.” His words hung heavy in the air as he paused, his words sinking in. He had seen firsthand the destruction brought by the Krath Lords of Mon Cal; had reviewed reports of the downfall of the world, of the crimes of Jedi and Sith alike.“Zhey mounted no defense; fleeing vonce zhey brought ruin to vorld, inviting suffering in zheir shadow of cowardice to subjugate and kill.”

 

“It vas men and vomen, not magicks, zhat stood in ze breach. Steel and courage and law, order, discipline.”


A thick hand played across his forehead as he wiped at the invisible perspiration that he felt beginning to congregate in his knit brows. “Vhilst many may be good intentioned, unchecked power, unbeholden to ze laws of all, vill corrupt even greatest of men.” He stopped. His his hand clenched behind his back at the thought that such beings were allowed to live beyond the rules that controlled the lives of ordinary men and women. His words might not be welcome, he knew that; but he had seen the damage brought by unchecked force users. Their magics a tipping point to the fragile balances of power they touched the galaxy over, caring not what vacuum they left in their wake.
 

The Sith and Jedi, sworn mortal enemies for time eternal, destroyed lives in their quests to wipe the other from memory. Neither one ever bested the other. The only forgotten were the collateral casualties of their never ending war. All that followed in their wake was pain and suffering veiled by the rightness each side professed. “Ze dead of Coruzant,”

 

“Mon Cal,” 

 

“Kuat,”

 

“Lehon,”

 

he ticked off several recent memories before continuing, “and countless more cannot testify to zheir goodness. Zheir bodies not even known to any but zheir gods. Vhat zhose souls would swear to if zhey could vould be betrayal. Bettayal vhen ze Jedi’s use of zhem had run course. Betrayal by Jedi and Sith alike. Abandoned in zheir hour of need for revenge and bauble.” Kolchak’s voice almost cracked as he spoke, his mechanized mind calling up a swirl of images from countless after action and intelligence reports of battles and actions the galaxy over. So many the same. The Jedi or the Sith had been there, inviting the other to ruin; the legions of regular beings sacrificed in the trenches and void. 


Composing himself he concluded, “Let zhem vorship, but let zhem do so under our laws and ze protections of zis Empire, beholden to ze laws of men. Zheir goodness vill shine through. Zheir greed contained by ze morality and steel of zhis government.” Nikolai stopped there, his voice heavy with conviction.
 

He knew what he was saying. He had seen miraculous good done with the powers of the force. He had seen great evils as well. Jedi and Sith, some who seemed to change mantles as often as he changed his uniform possessed the seeds of greatness. He had friends and associates amongst the Jedi. He had worked alongside agents of the Sith during his time in the Outer Rim. Just as each in this room knew if the Empress fell to evil, they would stand against her in their own way, so too he believed they must stand against the wiles of the force and it’s magicians.

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Kirlocca found himself moving almost aimlessly towards Raven. He could suddenly feel her almost calling out to him, but it was not without warning. The room seemed open, yet closed off all at the same time. For him, he knew for certain that he was allowed in, simply because Raven was allowing for him to be present. He knew he had the right room when an Admiral stepped out of the room and offered up a glance at him. Both immediately recognized each other, and both held a different facial expression upon seeing each other. For Admiral Beck Pilon, it was shock followed by a cocky smile. Kirlocca let his own expression be readable to the Admiral by pure surprise. He was certain that such a facial reaction would give the Admiral something to ponder for a few days.  I'm surprised that he's still around, let alone that she kept him around...

 

The thought faded as he stepped into the room, remaining quiet and let himself hide within the shadows for a moment. There was another Admiral speaking, rather downcasted towards the Jedi. His response to the Jedi Master seemed to be towards a young woman, but he didn't catch everything she said, nor was he certain on if what she said was the focal point. He choose instead to remain quiet and let the Admiral talk. As he stood, he listened, along with providing some quietness to Raven, as he could feel her emotions as the talks went back and forth. After the Admiral finished, he spoke first, alerting everyone to his own presence, followed by him stepping out of the shadows only after speaking.

 

<< And your stance is absolutely right. Jedi have never been trained to lead defenses of systems, be generals and take command. Our morals almost forbid it. We have no training to do any of this. And even as I say this, I am well aware that I myself have been at the forefront of almost every major battle that has taken place within my lifetime. Yet, by no one here, we have always been called on to act as such, helping to repel and defend worlds because we have the Force, and that seems to be enough for many Rebel generals. And whatever goodness may be tied to us isn't even strong enough to redeem the failures of the Jedi, as acting alone breaks to very nature of what it means to be Jedi. We have been acting outside of what we should, all because of some time ago the political game was tricked by a Sith. The Jedi were tricked as well, by the very same Sith. >>

 

Kirlocca now unfolded his arms that he was unaware he had folded to begin with. His eyes darted from every single face within the room, resting a bit longer on Raven before continuing on.

 

<<  Such uses of the Jedi as we are found guilty of are indeed worthy of governing, as it should be. But the Jedi should never be used in such a manner. That right is reserved for the Imperial Knights, whom I have always fully supported and wish to see them grow into a better branch for you. I would love to see the Imperial Knights grow into what you need them to be, governed fully by this council here. But know this, the Jedi are not governed in a sense that maybe you think. We act alongside, but no one outside of the Order is ever in a position to dictate what we do within our own walls. >>

 

Kirlocca then let out a big breath and folded his arms again. 

 

<< With such information, know that I do not speak for the entire Jedi Order. I am but a servant of the Council. And with that stance, I am here to help support you in whatever you may need. >>

Edited by Wookiee Jedi
Spelling/Grammar
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((Misal post for @Sandy Sarna))

 

Despite that fact that the Miraluka lacked functional eyes and concealed half her face with a veil that matched the pitch-dark of the undercity, Misal managed to affix Master Sarna with a scornful glance that was apparent even as she was holding on for dear life on the rungs of a rusty ladder. “Irrelevant. These creatures have caused something to happen to my grandson that demanded disciplinary action. I wish to know what happened.” And so the Miraluka continued, a shadowy form on the inky darkness of Nar Shaddaa’s undercity, breezing heavily and taking each rung at an agonizing pace.

 

The Miraluka paused about ten rungs and five meters below the proximity sensor. Curling her left arm around the ladder run, Misal Draygo allowed something silvery and sticky to slip from the confines of her sleeve and into her palm. The operative tossed it against the wall just adjacent to the sensors; the nearest glowlamp began to flicker and cast the two in intermittent darkness. “Localized ion field. Just enough to disrupt nearby power circuits. Proceed.”

 

As the two continued climbing and Misal’s strength began to waver, the Miraluka chuckled. “Heh. Being here, about a hundred meters above the ground, the words of a music group I enjoyed in my youth are coming to mind.” Despite her jocular tone and the forced smile, her face had gone pale and her Force-presence was instinctively withdrawing into itself. “He was a bit before your time, probably. Might be relevant to your predicament. Certainly relevant to ours.”


She hummed a few bars, unevenly, as she was desperately focusing on keeping her frail body from slipping from the strain. "Just hold on loosely, but don't let go. If you cling too tightly you're gonna lose control. Your baby needs someone to believe in, and a whole lot of space to breathe in. We should soon encounter…" The Miraluka reflexively glanced downwards and spied a flash of chitin and claws in pursuit. “Please move more quickly.”

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Raven felt at that moment that she could have kissed Kirlocca right on his wookiee mouth. It was such a relief and such a victory that a very uncharacteristic smile flash across her face. There would be no great second civil war, the Jedi would not betray everything they worked for, and she would not loose the brave warriors of the Jedi Order in the coming fight. Oh she would have to make this up to Kirlocca. Even though he was speaking purely from his heart and experience, such a feeling of overwhelming love shot through her that the two imperial knights that flanked her on either side flushed with embarrassment. She did not much care for what their thoughts were. This was the future of everyone’s lives. 

 

They would learn from the mistakes of the Galactic Alliance, or they would see another century of Sith tyranny. Now how to break it to those few and far in between fleet officers from the old Galactic Alliance. Slaughter, and the rest of them. 

 

“Thank you Admiral Kolchak, Master Kirlocca. We may need to rely on your diplomatic expertise to help the old Galactic Alliance Generals and the rest of the Jedi order adjust to what the new government might look like. We do not plan on forcing anyone to give up a democratic life in the local and sector politics. DO you think that will be enough or should we prepare for more dedicated rebellion from the old GA worlds?”

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Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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Despite a good amount of concentration that would have much better have been used to keep her balance and grip strength, Sandy could not place the song. She never had been much of a musical girl, but she was confident if the song had snuck itself into a holocommercial she would have memorized it somewhere in the back of her head. The song must have been obscure enough to only only have been isolated to whatever planet the miralukan peoples called home in this era. Sandy shrugged it off and let her pace of ascent quicken. Pulling herself up, bar after bar, as droplets of sweat began to eak their way down the side of her face. 

 

“I have never heard it before, but then again I did have a very secluded childhood.” She laughed softly then let her eyelids flicker closed as she pulled herself up another long set of rungs. Sending an image of the scene, the surroundings, and feel of the area to Aidan. Perhaps if he knew precisely where they were, it would ease their infiltration. Or perhaps it would cause a lot more drama if he disagreed with his grandmother’s approach.

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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On 12/15/2021 at 12:59 PM, Alcmène said:

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 tucked it onto her belt.

 

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

 

Vox finished his series of blocks and parties and counters, by now he'd gain some distance of several feet when Alcmène paused. He did this to help gain some advantage however the smiling woman clicked her saber off, he did the same. Vox was curious if they were done but he didn't have to wait long as he felt the adrenaline catch up, and so Vox had slowly shed the Force away from his body and he could feel just how drained he really was. While Vox was certainly a natural, the Force was still taxing enough that it could drain his stamina in such a way he didn't think was possible. 

 

The Trandoshan clicked his saber off as well, tossing the practice tool forward Alcmène, "I feel confident enough, I suppose. Yet something is... Amiss. Tell me, you people wouldn't be able to customize your lightsabers, would you? I have an appreciation for these tools however they barely fit my hand, and while I feel you have taught me to your fullest I still have much to learn."

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((Pretty much my last post, but I'm tacking more onto it))

 

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 like a broke 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." 

 

When they got into range Tilt had put in a code for the planets security which then the vessel was recognized as a neutral force. Moving through the atmosphere until landing on one of the bay area's pads. The Clones moved through the ship and opened the main hangar, the makeshift coffin for one Pryf in tow behind them. The trio had their grand republic armor on which may or may not catch a few glances, and regardless of that, they walked about as if they were familiar with the planet... Which they weren't. 

 

Tilt had his weapons holstered and the group was mindful of engineers and repairmen running about to tend to different ships. Tilt saw the first individual who was in an Imperial Officer uniform and walked up to him, "Excuse me, but we were directed by a combat group for this Galactic Alliance to come to Nar Shaddaa. Know anything about signing up for it?"

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There was the briefest flicker of hesitation from Aidan as Sandy's telepathic message reached him, he hadn't felt his grandmother's presence at all. Then again, she was always good at that, and especially from hiding herself from him. Still, he picked up the pace, Misal was the one singular person Aidan was still relatively terrified of disappointing. In just a few short moments, Aidan rounded a corner after descending a final flight of stairs to see them both not too far away down a hallway. This far down into Nar Shaddaa's sublevels the passageways seemed to be mostly abandoned, and the last three floors Aidan had passed through all had intermittent lighting as if one of the major power connections had gone bad. Sheepishly he raised a hand at them in greeting, starting into a half-baked placation excuse Misal knew all too well from back when he was still her ward.

 

"Hey, you two look about ready for war, should I be concer-"

 

Suddenly his danger senses flared as something chitinous and skittering lunged at him from the shadows of an adjacent hallway, and the young Imperial Knight barely had the reflexes to dodge out of the way. His lightsaber was in his hand in an instant and ignited just as quickly, the bright silver blade casting horrific shadows behind the creature. Aidan leaned into the Force's flow as he called out once more to the two women, a slight hint of irritation in his voice as he spoke over clattering exoskeleton footfalls that were rapidly increasing in volume.

 

"Friends of yours?"

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((Armiena Draygo))

 

Forty-nine sets of sapient eyes and another set of glowing cybernetic prosthetics were fixed on Grandmaster Armiena Draygo, who stood at the bottom of an amphitheatre-shaped briefing room. Supposedly this room, like many of The Red and Black’s briefing halls, had once been performance theatres; Armiena could believe it, as the vertical clearance was such that the hall could have accommodate a second-floor mezzanine and a lighting rig. Even the seats that the Imperial Scouts, all clad in their white armor, were situated on a gentle upwards slope. The effect was such that Draygo, standing in front of an enormous holoprojection of Nar Shaddaa’s tunnel network, felt as though she was putting on a performance.

 

Modern dance might have been preferable to delivering this briefing. The questioning of the scout troopers was such that Draygo might have been under a form of inverse interrogation. She had even begun to pace from side to side across the projection of Nar Shaddaa’s globe that stood fixed behind her.

 

“Alliance records indicate that the Remnant’s construction projects left these tunnels intact, and several of them were later scouted by Slaughter’s pioneers after the Alliance seized The Red and Black. That said, many of them are centuries old… and some of them have been in disuse for nearly as long. And quite frankly, Nar Shaddaa’s civil records are utter dreck. We need them remapped before we can use them again.”

 

“And why are they so important now?”

 

“As you can see on the holomap,” Armiena shrugged backwards towards the moon’s globe. “Several of them extend continental distances–and yet no one has bothered to monitor them in centuries. They may be useful in the future for...” The veteran Jedi’s voice trailed off. What they would be useful for would be clandestine shipments of materiel, or troops, or even critical records or government officials if the survival of the Rebel Alliance was at stake; however, these were Imperial Scouts that Armiena was briefing, not fellow Jedi that she had known for years or decades.

 

“For what, Grandmaster? And what kind of term are you thinking of?”

 

“Contingency plans, Scout.” That Armiena refused to respond with anything more than vague generalities or a blunt refusal to elaborate. “I’m afraid that anything more than that is classified.”

 

“Details on potential threats were pretty sparse, ma’am.”

 

“Unfortunately, that’s the nature of Nar Shaddaa’s undercity. Most of the stories that the locals tell about what lives down there are just that–stories. Rumors. Legends. Even the block gangs don’t like to venture down to that level–and I don’t expect you to stand and fight if you’re threatened–retreat and report back, or maneuver away–”

 

“Maneuver away, ma’am? Do you have any idea what it’s like piloting a 74-Z at 500 klicks? And in close confines?”

 

Armiena started to grit her teeth. “Scout, I know it’s crazy, and more than a little dangerous. I’d do it myself–”

 

“It’s kriffing awesome, that’s what it is! Shavit, ma’am, this is the kind of thing that we live for! Me and Night-Light here–” the Scout Trooper twitched his fingers towards his peer with the prosthetic eyes. “Our last job was at Outer Heaven. Broad streets, open air, that was easy–”

 

“--except for the schuttas shooting disruptors at us.”

 

____

 

((Misal Draygo))

 

Misal Draygo gasped in shock at the sound of her grandson’s voice and her grasp on the ladder rungs slackened. The Miraluka may have even lost her grip and plummeted more than a hundred meters to her death, had caution against irritating arthritic limbs not instilled a habitual caution against sudden movements. She had been so focused on deliberately not relying on The Force, even as her heart pounded in a frightful rhythm for one of her age. But now the ruse was now useless, if Sarna’s attempts at stealth were so ineffective that the young woman had attracted the attention of her beau.

 

“Of course. I’m a habitual visitor to environments such as this. That fellow…” A few seconds passed as Misal caught her breath. Many meters below, the many-legged shell-backed beast fell to the ground with a mixture of a crunch and a wet splat. “...must be a newcomer. Ah. At last.”

 

A miniature spot-luma caught a glimpse of a freshly-laid conduit, one that hadn’t begun to rust or even develop mildew from the moisture in the air. Determinedly clutching the ladder rungs with her arm, Misal withdrew a small vibroblade and etched a delicate slash into the plastoid cylinder. She studied the interior for a second–mostly data cables surrounding a core of a high-wattage power cord. It was standard civil infrastructure, like something that might have been routed on Coruscant or Corellia or any of a thousand worlds of the Galactic Alliance, rather than the haphazard construction of Nar Shaddaa.

 

“This will be a… tight fit.” Indeed, when Misal disengaged herself to the ladder to force her aged body into the maintenance crawlspaces, she found that it barely admitted her torso. It had been built primarily for the access of maintenance droids, not sapient beings. She began muttering the distance she had crawled, her voice tinged with a mixture of pain and irritation.

 

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On 12/29/2021 at 9:39 AM, Tilt07 said:

 

Tilt had his weapons holstered and the group was mindful of engineers and repairmen running about to tend to different ships. Tilt saw the first individual who was in an Imperial Officer uniform and walked up to him, "Excuse me, but we were directed by a combat group for this Galactic Alliance to come to Nar Shaddaa. Know anything about signing up for it?"


The black clad Major, stopped mid-step, turning to inspect who was addressing him. His thin-lipped, chin-thrusted, clean shaven face carried an aura of authority that seemed to radiate beyond his Major rank insignia. As a member of the Imperial Stormtrooper Corps, he was one of the elite, the best, and he knew it. A single eyebrow raise was the inly response from the man as he took in the antiquated commando array. “A combat group?” he questioned, his tone conveying doubt over the entire story. Clearly, arrayed as such, these were more backwater militiamen come to fight for a grand cause. ‘Probably salvaged the armor. Maybe never even seen combat’ he thought as he took in group. Still . . . not everyone could be of his own level, that of the galaxy’s most elite fighting force; these local country bumpkins might still serve a useful purpose. “What, is that?” the Major enquired eying the coffin that was being toted along with the Commandos, shrugging his thinly pronounced chin in it’s general direction.

 

He did not wait for a response before sighing. It was one of those sighs that sounded like it could have been an eye roll. He really did not have time for this; but who was he to pass up an opportunity? “Follow me.” He turned and waived the men after him as he made his way to an Imperial shuttle whose loading ramp was open. Ducking inside, the Major found a chair and table. Seating himself at it, he produced a holopad and stylus. Holding it at the ready he looked at Tilt. “Name, galactic standard date and planet of birth, most recent  prior employer, prior experiences that may be of use to the Imperial Navy, and” he paused looking up from the list he was ticking off the screen, “where did you acquire your current load out ?” 

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Tilt was near explaining who they were, however the Officer looked at them like there was some sort of stench. True, their armor was makeshift at this point, but it was still quite useful more than nothing. His eyes narrowed under his visored helmet as the Officer didn't give them time to speak, but instead the man said to follow him and he took off. Riggs spoke everyone's mind when he said, "Who's this dainty prick again?" 

 

Thumper slapped the backside of Rigg's helmet and replied, "Shut up, Riggs." 

 

Tilt ignored the pair, and with the coffin in tow he responded to the Imperial Officer with proper military application, "CT-0207, Captain Tilt. CT-0985 Sergeant Riggs. CT-1567 Captain Thumper. We lost track of our ages, to be honest. 33BBY, Kamino originally or the home we defended, Coruscant, you choose. Our combat specialties vary since we are ARK Troopers and each of us have different specializations: hand-to-hand, marksmanship, weapons and equipment repairs, espionage, sabotage, front line assault, and… There are more. We were picked up by this Jedi Pryf from Haruun Kal," Tilt gave the coffin a knock, "He fell in battle while we were liberating Ryloth. We came here to join the war effort and give the Jedi back their deceased Knight." 

 

'And friend,' Tilt finished with a thought. He viewed Pryf as a friend even though they had a short time together. The Clone Captain owed Pryf a decent goodbye which he did on the ship, and a more or less decent "burial" casket, they didn't need to desecrate the body or anything disrespectful like that. His actions caused the death of one individual which Tilt carried heavily, that outburst back on Ryloth was… Odd, and stupid to say the least, and he wondered if there would be more like it. He doubted it, maybe it was the one instance but Tilt did not want something like that to happen again. Regardless, they're here to serve a good cause. To help further reinforce that the Clones were indeed actual Clones, Tilt removed his helmet to reveal a very Fett face, and with a nudge back of his head Riggs and Thumper did likewise save that Riggs had scars on his face. 

 

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The ranked Stormtrooper listened, nodding occasionally as he glanced to his holopad. An “I see,” or a “hmm” were all the response he gave as the men explained themselves and removed their  helmets.

 

”Both Kamino and Coruscant have been destroyed by the Sith. Trillions of lives lost. Complete devastation.” He added as the men finished, clacking his screen several times scrolling through several screens of required information makibg notes where needed and logging the men’s antiquated callsigns to see if any information was available on a variety of Imperial, Stormtrooper, Naval and Intelligence databases. “If you are who you say you are,” he raised a questioning eyebrow towards them, “we may have more use for you than the . . . more regular recruits the Rebellion seems to brings in.”

 

”The Grand Army of the Republic is long gone,” he explained emotionlessly as his pd dinged finding confirming information on the men’s IDs; caring not what manner of emotional response this might elicit from the clones. “Replaced by the might of the true Empire in exile. The Stormtrooper Corps, the true descendant of the most elite troops of that era. We might be able to find you someplace within our ranks, if you check out and your skills are not too rusty….” The Major’s eyes scanned a readout on his holopad as he paused. Looking up, “Would you boys be interested in that?”

 

”We can, of course, arrange for your friend to be returned to the Jedi contingent planetside.”

 

“I am not seeing any official after action report on this business on Ryloth. Why don’t you fill me in.”

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Alcemene brought the heel of her palm to slap against her forehead. The slapping sound almost sounding comical as she shook her head and tried not to laugh in frustration at herself. 

 

“Oh I am so sorry, of course there is.” She wiped the sweat from her face with a towel, then gestured for the Trandoshan to follow her. They were within the Red and Black afterall, so with the grim efficiency that only the imperial knights could think of, their mechanics shop was only one flight of stairs away. She dropped her pack on the floor and gestured to the long durasteel tables, boxes of batteries, casings, thin cut-to-size materiels, and wiring supplies. 

 

“We of course will need to find you a crystal. Do you have anything like that in your clan? Or do you know anyone that might have gems that would give them to you? Maybe the Naboo queen you rescued? Otherwise we have a crate of synthetic crystals the Imperial Knights use if you don’t want to bother with that.”

 

She unfurled a long sheet of flimsplast and passed her apprentice a pen.

 

“Sketch out what you want, then I will show you the first step of building a lightsaber.”

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Sandy gave Misal an apologetic look that she hoped communicated the whole spectrum of apologies and explanations then followed it with a grin. Then immediately after a frown of realization that she had just tried to communicate with a blind person with a facial expression. Damn. She shook her head. 

 

“I thought we were trying to free him so of course I…” But Aidan’s Grandmother had already ducked into the communications shaft. Sandy wrinkled her nose in irritation. But she knew the older woman was probably right. A communication with someone like Aidan could have been a dangerous thing, and it was true that it was foolish, to an extreme if the Imperials had been expecting them to try and spring him out.  She would need to learn to think ahead sometime. Or at least find out the intentions of her temporary allies before they landed them all in a cell. 

 

Sandy gave Aidan a grin but as her face was covered in the grime of the underworld. It mostly mostly showed as a white blur in the darkness haloed by now dirty platinum blonde hair. She turned back around and gestured for him to follow closely. She was sorry that they did not meet at an easier place to talk about what had happened during their last mission. But this was not the time. If he wanted to follow her, they could talk, maybe even make up from the trauma. Or at least she hoped they would.

 

She opened the shaft Misal had crawled into and ducked in herself. It was a tight fit, and it would be even tighter for Aidan. But for now, She followed the presence of Misal Draygo as they wound their way through the darkness of the shaft.

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8 hours ago, Nikolai Kolchak said:

The ranked Stormtrooper listened, nodding occasionally as he glanced to his holopad. An “I see,” or a “hmm” were all the response he gave as the men explained themselves and removed their  helmets.

 

”Both Kamino and Coruscant have been destroyed by the Sith. Trillions of lives lost. Complete devastation.” He added as the men finished, clacking his screen several times scrolling through several screens of required information makibg notes where needed and logging the men’s antiquated callsigns to see if any information was available on a variety of Imperial, Stormtrooper, Naval and Intelligence databases. “If you are who you say you are,” he raised a questioning eyebrow towards them, “we may have more use for you than the . . . more regular recruits the Rebellion seems to brings in.”

 

”The Grand Army of the Republic is long gone,” he explained emotionlessly as his pd dinged finding confirming information on the men’s IDs; caring not what manner of emotional response this might elicit from the clones. “Replaced by the might of the true Empire in exile. The Stormtrooper Corps, the true descendant of the most elite troops of that era. We might be able to find you someplace within our ranks, if you check out and your skills are not too rusty….” The Major’s eyes scanned a readout on his holopad as he paused. Looking up, “Would you boys be interested in that?”

 

”We can, of course, arrange for your friend to be returned to the Jedi contingent planetside.”

 

“I am not seeing any official after action report on this business on Ryloth. Why don’t you fill me in.”

 

The trio already knew the Grand Republic was gone, however Kamino and Coruscant were a surprise. There were mixed emotions amongst them yet none of the Clones opened up about it. It was on their faces however that it was a disturbing bit of news, something that clearly the Imperial Officer cared less for. Amongst them Tilt had cleared his throat to help get a lump out and it still struck him below that a major event like that had happened with what the Jedi Purge. They were here now, and that's what mattered let it be by destiny or sheer dumb luck. 

 

"31st Infantry Division we teamed up with to take out a target holding Ryloth and it's Twi'leks hostage. The operation was led by one Azael and Jude…" Tilt gave it some thought and continued, "And if you do not mind, we don't like to stay aboard some ship, whatever you consider special forces, ground forces, anything like that. My only request is we be the ones to deliver the fallen Jedi, he was the one who helped us from being stranded, it's only right we personally see to it." 

 

"Ooh! Oooh!" Riggs piped up like a child, "We also got a stolen Sith ship the Jedi took from someplace! Anyway we can get that retrofitted?" 

 

"Pipe down ya idiot!" Thumper hissed.

 

"Oi! It's just a damn question-" 

 

"Captain- Sergeant! Lock it down!" Tilt snapped, then turned back to the Officer with an exasperated expression, "We'll deliver the body. Afterward where would we need to go from there?*

 

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Vox followed the woman, already pulling out his own lightsaber. They moved through a flight of steps entering through colors of black and red accents for the interiors. A minute later Alcmène explained the situation regarding the saber crystals as they arrived at a station. It was more advanced than the forges of the Nudono... Well more simple and advanced, in that there were a variety of parts and pieces. Listening in to the questions regarding the crystal, something immediately pulled Vox and he seemed to almost be repulsed at the idea of synthetic.

 

"No," Vox immediately says, pulling a paper and the pen from Alcmène, he started at a reference point using his own saber, "No synthetic crystals, it isn't natural... It isn't right. In my first battle against the Sith, an Apprentice who wielded an orange blade, I lost my tribes glaive which burned brightly of deep green in almost a wicked way. My father had told me our ancestors hewn the weapon from many chieftains swords and spears, the crystal in it's center originating from a frozen realm." 

 

Vox continued as he finished the outline of the weapon, and started on fine details almost having no clue with what exactly he was drawing. More or less, he was using instinct than intellect, "There was something of importance in that glaive, something beyond it being a simple tool or weapon. My father told me takes of how our past was buried within the blade itself, the hilt being a key... But I'm not certain of what to make of it. Beyond that I have no clue. I could ask the Naboo Queen however I doubt she has one... No, it would seem that I need to find the crystal itself, it would only seem right to do so." 

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The Major eyed the men as their emotions cracked through. Setting down the holopad, he reclined in his chair slightly to regard the troopers. “The Imperial Navy may have use for you yet gentlemen. Take your ship to Docking Bay 37, tell Engineer Banks that Major Wiems sent it for retrofitting and Special Detailing. She’ll know what to do. Then escort your fallen friend to the Jedi and get aboard a shuttle to the Immobilizer Class Constantine. Report to the XO for assignment under Fleet Admiral Kolchak, Naval Intelligence.”

 

Standing, Major Wiems tucked the holpad beneath his arm and offered a brisk salute to the men. “Gentlemen, welcome to the Navy. May your Service be an honor to your homes, kin, and Empress.” He then gestured with one sweeping arm, indicating the men should disembark before him. Once they were off, he would close the ramp and the craft would begin prepping for take off, as the pilot ducked aboard.

 

_________________________
 

DOCKING BAY 37: IMPERIAL REPAIR YARD


Engineering Sergeant Killianne Banks slid out from the bowels of the TIE bomber she had been waist deep in. Wiping the back of her hand across her sweat covered brow, the Zavrak left a streak of inky grease in it’s path. “Tell you what R3,” she chirped pleasantly, albeit annoyingly, as a nearby dinged, battered, and equally dirty astromech droid expertly wielding a welder along a large gash in the cockpit, “Them flyboys. Trying to bypass the safety mechs to launch spiced wine to your buddy’s party is NOT approved use for such a delicate system.”

 

Banks shook her head and jumped to the ground, bending over to grab a fallen hydrospanner. She was careful to make sure her elongated horns did. It scrape against the ship; wether that was more for her or the ship’s wellbeing  was questionable as both were looking relatively pristine given their lots in life

 

—————————————————-

 

INTERDICTION CADRE: Interdiction Field

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

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A quick swipe of his saber and the dog-sized insectoid thing was quickly no longer a threat. Aidan deactivated his blade, sensing a much larger threat below now no longer present, no doubt the work of Misal, who seemed to be irritated that he'd found them? Aidan couldn't pretend to understand his grandmother; the woman was an enigma. But right now especially he knew it was likely better to simply not ask questions. Quickly he flashed Sandy his best I'm sorry look and followed them into the shaft.

 

There would be time for questions later.

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Tilt nodded and held out a hand for a shake if the Major would receive it, "Thank you Major for the chance, we'll be on our way then." 

 

Tilt turned and left, sliding his helmet back on and the other two Clones doing likewise. Their way to the Mantis was full of conversation, mostly contemplation and question after question, theories as to what exactly happened after the fall of the Grand Republic and the Jedi Order. However they didn't let it get them down,, all they wanted was a little closure, maybe questions the Jedi themselves could answer. Once they boarded the ship the Clones turned the still-warm vessel on and guided it back up again. The Mantis was flown for a hot minute until it reached an open landing pad at Docking Bay 37. 

 

The ship opened and, again, the Clone troopers exited off the ramp. Tilt scanned the area until settling upon an engineer covered in grime. The horned woman was the first living thing in the bay he set his eyes on and walked forward. When the Clone Captain stepped up to the woman he immediately said, "Are you a Ms. Banks?" 

 

"Only female around here it looks," Riggs said scanning the woman, "Not afraid to get her hands dirty either, just how I-" 

 

Thumper smacked the back of Riggs' helmet harder than before, and even though the third clone had his helmet it was apparent his glare could burn through the visit. Tilt sighed and continued, "Major Wiems sent us, said you get can our ship retrofitted and special detailed?" 

 

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((Misal post up for @Sandy Sarnaand @Aidan Darkfire))

 

The maintenance crawlspace was intended to be an impossible fit for any sapient creature much larger than a standard-issue MSE-series droid. Even an astromech would have found it an impossible passage. The physical impediments, in conjunction with the dangers of Nar Shaddaa’s undercity and multiple proximity sensors that needed to be bypassed, made for a substantial barrier to any sapient and synthetic interlopers. Worse, as Misal wriggled and shoved her slight frame between breaths through the pipes and conduits, the crawlspace became quite unbearably warm and she began to sweat profusely in her robe.

 

The Miraluka forced herself to breath patiently and pause at any moment when she sensed her heart beginning to race. This kind of physical strain was a poor decision for a woman of her age, especially after a recent cardiac episode. No matter. The elder Miraluka continued to wedge her body through the crawlspace one gasp at a time, one wriggle at a time,. One collision with a conduit or droid portal at a time. All the meanwhile, she kept one sweaty palm on the surface of the data conduit, waiting until her instincts guided her to her destination in this pitch, coffin-deep darkness.

 

Some fifty meters down the crawlspace, those Force-guided instincts instructed her to stop; she gratefully gave her legs a rest and simply breathed as her hand traced shapes in the darkness. She felt something cylindrical, a little larger than a stylus; her fingers traced the contours of the cylinder and felt a SCOMP port, most likely for assignment updates for the droids. That would make an ideal infiltration point into the Imperial Knights’ computers. A cramped grasp into her sleeves withdrew a SCOMP-link and a datapad. Jamming the device into the port, Misal set to work by the dim light of her datapad. Within minutes, her spike protocols had defeated the outer defenses of the Knights’ computer network; that was sufficient to access personnel files–dossiers, service records, and disciplinary reports… specifically, those pertaining to her grandson. For the moment, those files were just data, with no time to read text: data and security protocols.

 

A great temptation seized Misal to take a brief glance at one of the more recent disciplinary reports: another Imperial Knight, a Lieutenant-Colonel Vorsha, had been assigned to investigating Aidan’s conduct…

 

The temptation for more data–more defenses–led her on to defeating another layer of security. As Misal slithered her way around electronic barriers and tripwires, a creeping sense of dread began to ooze up around her ankles and up her back like a cold sweat. That gave her pause, and the Miraluka took a moment to breathe and simply mold her presence around The Force; there was no sudden alertness, no sign of danger lurking nearby or even alarm from the two young sapients at her back. No cause to believe that she had made a critical error… and yet the flush of adrenaline persisted, as urgent and demanding of her attention as the report of a blaster pistol.

 

Misal’s breath began to quicken and her heart raced despite all attempts at discipline. The confines of the crawlspace, previously cramped and uncomfortable and familiar, were now as hot and sooty as the interior of an incinerator. She couldn’t stop the gasp that escaped her lips.

 

It was all that the veteran infiltrator could do to not completely lose her head and physically yank her SCOMP link from the port. Her breath unnaturally loud in her ears and her heart pounding like an excavation ram, Misal at least managed to terminate her connection into the Knights’ computer network and tuck her devices back into her sleeves.

 

And then she completely lost it. The sense of looming disaster seemed imminent.


Pull me out,” the words came first as a whisper, then rose in urgency. It sounded as though Misal was about to start crying. “Pull me out, pull me out, get me out–please, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have led us down here…

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A smile crept across the dirty face of the engineering sergeant as one of the group, clapped the back of another’s head to stop what was clearly going to be an inappropriate remark.
 

“Aye, I’m Sergeant Banks,” she paused to look over the group, winking at Riggs, before turning her eyes to the ship. She let out a low whistle, “Navy must be hard up sending out boys in last year’s dress blues and a ship, like, well,” she gestured vaguely to the ship in a ‘just look at that thing’ sort of way before resting her right hand her extended right hip twirling her hydrospanner in the other hand. “But I suppose,” she walked between the troopers and approached the ship. “It ain’t the size, it’s how you use the equipment god gave ya.” She tapped Riggs visor playfully as she spoke and passed him. “Or in this case the Empress.” A smile and a wink followed as she approached the ship and began to walk around it, eyeballing it from several directions.

 

The R3 droid clanked once as it rolled over a loose hose on the deck, circling around the troopers, giving them a berth wide enough to be noticed. It too approached the ship and began to scan it.

 

Without asking, the Zabrak hoisted a panel and stuck her head inside the tangle of wires. Her muffled voice echoed dully from within, “Where’d you boys find this rig? Ain’t seen so much space dust since that time I took me a batch of callees to the old clones home. Boy those old farts hadn’t seen action in a while. The dust in those I tell you.” She pulled her head out of the ship to look over at the clones, “You boys say Weims wanted me to give ya’ll special detailing?” She asked skeptically, with a glitter of snarky playfulness in her eye. She had caught the reprimand and was enjoying poking fun. “Might take a day or two to find the right part . . ners, for such a massive undertaking ya know.”

 

On the other side of the ship with an excited electronic whistled whoop, R3’s plasma torch flared to life as he moved in towards some of the more exposed sensitive electronic areas on the hull.

 

Walking back towards the clones, Killianne pulled a greasy rag out of her back pocket and haphazardly wiped her hands on it. She looked the clones over from feet up, her eyes lingering on Tilt, before looking at Thumper and Riggs, “Captain’d probably take about 2 minutes eh? The ship on the other hand, maybe two days if it keeps from rockin’.”

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Riggs smirked as the Zabrak winked at him, then as she passed his smirk turned into a devilish grin when she tapped his visor. Thumper shook his head knowing what was going through his brother's head, and the trio followed, Tilt being as professional as possible. It was a drag being the 'eldest' of the bunch, and hard work, but they worked together quite well. Riggs was the kind of man any woman could go for, knows his weapons, what the ladies like, how to treat them if he wasn't such a hound… Thumper was strict on him, but as Riggs stated in the past last time they were in a firefight against CIS Destroyers, "Quit actin' like a virgin and thrust yourself in there, boy!" 

 

The two other Clones stayed silent when Tilt spoke, "We… didn't have the luxury of experiencing models like this. Mostly a lot of what the Grand Republic used when it was a thing, so as far as I know it's "new" in some sense. A friend who picked us up "acquired" it from the Sith Empire, we had this hunk of metal temporarily fixed up from tracking devices removed to anything Sith related removed. And as far as I know, that's what the Major said." 

 

Tilt removed his helmet in the middle of talking, revealing he was one of those clones that wore those, "Old farts," and in return Riggs and Thumper did likewise. By everyone's expression clones may be commonplace, or perhaps no one cared enough, but Tilt didn't like keeping a helmet on all of the time, not unless it was required, and more than not he was used to it staying on. Just that the old filters didn't work half the time and it was nice to get fresh air… even if it were filled with chemical fumes from repaired ships. It wasn't impossible to see which clone was which as Riggs clearly had scars on his face, Thumper was starting a mustache, and Tilt had the standard Fett face if not a bit rugged. 

 

"Tilt, ya' don't mind me getting some special detailing, would you?" Riggs asked playfully, smirking and winking back at the Sergeant. 

 

"Don't think anyone needs a ¼ socket, Riggs." Thumper states quietly, but it definitely wasn't a hushed whisper. 

 

Tilt intervened by saying to the engineer trying to keep things more professional, "We have a side errand, Jedi business, but that's our next task. Two to three days won't take long, and a request if you don't mind. We named the ship Mantis in honor of it's previous owner, anyway you think you could print the word on the side by chance? If not it's fine."

 

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Sergeant Banks winked at the trio of clones, “I’ll put whatever you want on the side of your big boy. Might cost you a little extra ya know.”

 

She turned back to face the ship, reaching into the bowels of the craft and unceremoniously yanking a tangle of wires and hardware out. Throwing a loom over her shoulder, the Engineering Sergeant winked playfully to Riggs. “Hurry back.”

 

A gout of sparks erupted from the far side of the ship as the R3 sliced deep into the craft looking for abnormalities.

 

 

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Kirlocca let out a sigh and looked down at the ground. The truth be told, he did expect for rebellion to ensue on more worlds that held heavier ties to the old systems. He closed his eyes for a moment before he looked directly at Raven and spoke loudly so that everyone could hear him. 

 

<< Yes. Rebellion will ensue on worlds that held such strong ties to the old systems. I don't think any war like rebellions per se, but I do foresee some strong resistance and headaches for localized leaders. >> 

 

He turned towards the Admiral and the queen in the room, addressing them over Raven, who posed the question. It was his way of offering up more assurances to the rest gathered. 

 

<< The Jedi Order is used to changing and adjusting. Although I would still connect personally with the Grandmaster before anything official can be said for the entire Order. >> 

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About halfway down the extensive communications shaft, Sandy was very glad that she had maintained the high metabolism of her teens. But still the mass of pipes, and overly sharp access points dug into her hips as she writhed her way through the mess to follow Aidan’s grandmother to whichever port the force was guiding her. But still, there was something off inthe force. It piqued in the back of her neck, causing a shiver despite the rising temperatures of the shaft. She paused for a moment to wipe the sweat from her eyes and when she had finally  blinked the stinging pain away she saw the Miraluka plug into one of the terminals. 

 

She turned partway and gave Aidan a confined grin, and held up her palm to indicate that Misal had stopped up ahead. Her gaze lingered for a second too long on Aidan, then she turned back to observe Misal. But she couldn’t shake the thoughts that were persistently creeping into the back of her head. 

 

She worried for him, his future, their future. How could she not? She still loved him. The love had changed, but it was still there. Even through all of the muck and mire of Verzna-Torrah, it had persisted. Not the love of admiration, nor the frustrated lust of an unrequited love which eats at the heart until there is only bitterness. This was an older love. She couldn’t describe it in her mind, though the thought of it was so distracting that she nearly missed the subtle change in the force. 

 

What was that? The darkside was a subtle thing, moving unseen in currents and eddies that only fully revealed itself through the horrible actions of sentient beings. But Sandy could feel it. It crept in like a choking fog, that almost stopped her breath before she heard the call of Misal Draygo. What had they stumbled into? 

 

“Back! I will get her!” 

 

She jumped into action and dove forward towards the small form of Aidan’s grandmother reaching a strong hand to grasp the women's robe and yank her up after her. Sandy took a deep breath and let the force flood her as she hauled the woman up with her as they ascended together up the long and cramped passage way. She was now fully relying on the force to guide her actions and she pulled the woman close as she pulled herself out of the hatch. She reached out with the force to give the woman comfort as Sandy and Aidan gently put Misal down on the small walkway outside the access tunnel. 

 

“What happened, what was that?” 

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"Very well, thank you, if I haven't said. Let's move out." Tilt replies to Banks then his squad. The makeshift casket hovered above the floor thanks to a gravity lift, two small platforms designed to help haul around luggage. Or bodies in this case. 

 

Tilt and co. had wondered about, asking questions to the nearest Jedi... Only that the "Jedi" was some bum in a robe. Piss off was the key phrase, and it only seemed to stoke Riggs' flame when the two got into a cussing match. The two brothers dragged the middle one off when words were about to turn into fists, the scene was recorded by onlookers and would certainly be an entertaining watch on the Holonet. The amusing scuffle of words turned embarrassing, at least for Tilt as he wanted a better public image upon the group not one where they'd be beating up some old man. How many times do I have to tell you old man?! That phrase was exaggerated on Riggs' end, and Thumper actually started to become amused by the arguments. Tilt could only take so much... 

 

Eventually they reached... Someplace, someplace very very important as there were a variety of officers and knights and so further rushing about. The trio didn't even know where they were so they continued to move until reaching a random docking bay, and so more argument started again. Riggs declared, "Admit it, Tilt, you're lost." 

 

"No I... I know where we are." Tilt interjects. 

 

"Yeah knowing exactly where we are on a planet we've only been on for almost an hour. Makes perfect sense" Thumper quips. 

 

Both Tilt and Riggs said shut up in unison, with the other trooper raising his hands. If didn't hurt to ask at least. Tilt had a feeling they really didn't need to, so they wondered about until Riggs, with out looking, ran into a limb of wood fingers which caused him to slap then punch the moving limb out of the way. He exclaimed, "Gah! Who the hell plants a tree in a walkway?!"

 

"A Neti?" Tilt asked crank g his head upward. 

 

"What do you mean theti? There's no such-" 

 

Thumper interrupts, "No you idiot, look upward." 

 

Riggs backed up and was in awe, confusing, and shock as he looked at the tree-man who was simply passing through. The trio was quiet, Tilt only ever heard of Neti whilst the other two had no idea was it was. Riggs comment of whether it was sentient or not was met with a loud face palm that sounded from Thumper, and Tilt stepped forward. He didn't know of the creature could speak the common galactic tongue, but he figured he wanted to try at least and apologize. Clearing his throat and trying to find the words, Tilt quickly summoned up whatever he could, unsure whether the tree-folk could really understand him or not. 

 

"Forgive my... Comrade, sir," Tilts clone voice was loud and clear but carried a calmness about it, professional like he wanted it... Almost, "He hit his head when he was born. He meant you no harm." 

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