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Nar Shaddaa - Rebel Alliance Headquarters

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“If you desire to stand defiant before the dark lord, then perhaps we may be of service. Jensaarai are not Jedi and we trod different paths within the force leading to the same end. We are going now, to walk one of those paths to cut down the darkness. I wish you well Master Jedi. May the force guide your steps.”  The Sarlacc spoke to Tobias, intrigued by the man’s unashamed desire to confront the heart of darkness. The man bore watching that was for sure, even if he was  just a leaf-on-the-wind.


Turning to Svata, the Jensaarai chuckled slightly. “Maybe it was a bit speciesist after all, but all good. You are a Ryn, I a Duros, the Saarai-Kaar a Weequay; yet we are all Jensaarai. Just like the force imbues us each with different skills and abilities, so does our genetic makeup and histories not just of our own, but the lives and peoples we left behind. Those can be good or bad depending. In this case, the galactic views of your kind and their actions to survive and theive in spite of it are definitely a positive for you and us.” He replaced the last of his weapons on his belt and grabbed his helmet, tucking it under his arm. “I have never heard of this Mad Dug, but so long as we do not endanger he and his kin, I think your idea is superb. Do you think that you could repaint an Imperial Interdictor by the morrow?  His voice rose with the question, obviously an impossible task and a jest meant to probe the elder apprentice’s mind. “Let us find our way back to our ship. I trust you found suitable materials for your next task?”


Turning to Tobias, The Sarlacc nodded, “Until we meet again.”


Then the twonset off down the halls towards their ship, the Sarlacc’s assigned escort tagging behind them. Back at the ship, the Jensaarai boarded into the secure secrecy of Jensaarai protections.


Settling at a table, The Sarlacc looked the Ryn up and down. “Our Jedi allies have requested we prove ourselves with a task uniquely fit to our perceived abilities and skills. We will be engaging in privateering masquerading as pirates, preying on Sith shipping to collect funds for the Rebellion, and whatever else we might find to benefit our cause. We WILL not prey upon the innocent though; only those tainted by the wiles of the Sith.”


”As such, we ought to ensure you are properly prepared for battle. I know you have trained with a myriad of weapons and training sabers back home. It is time to build your own weapon. Even if we do not use our sabers so as to further hide our identities. Do you know how the saber is constructed?”  The Duros carefully removed his saber hilt from his belt and set it on the table between the two Jensaarai. “If you need it, please reach out in the force and use mine as a guide.”


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Vos nodded in farewell at the new allies. He had wished they would have invited him along, but he knew how fragile he looked. As they left, Vos took his place in the sparring ring and called his old yellow blade to him, Slowly he went through the poses for Form I and II of basic lightsaber combat, modified to accommodate his left arm and right leg. As he maneuvered his mind separated and fell into a meditative trance as he practiced. Thoughts swirled around like a tornado. From his Dark Lords plan to his Adenna plans and every where in-between, but at last it focused on a topic; the Force. Naturally. How everyone must feel it, how the interpretations of it were so different, but still so similar. 

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Raven glanced down at her datapad which had been sitting silently on her lap until it had given a soft buzz of an incoming message. She reached forward with her black gloved hand and paused the replay of the second battle of Kuat and then pulled the datapad up. The name receipt was from one of the many recruiting officers that were likely combing the depths of Nar Shaddaa for refugees to recruit into the military. It carried a different kind of message and one that caused her dark eyebrows to rise. 


Mandalore, the scourge of Coruscant was here? Was this a trap?  


She glanced up to her escort who took the datapad in hand and laughed. He was one of the leading Imperial Knight exorcists and though he was an avowed destroyer of the Sith, she did not know his opinion of those without the force who committed evil. 

“Les enfants perdus?” 


She whispered the words to him in old Caridian as an aide glanced their way. He nodded and handed the datapad back taking a moment to catch her eye. She nodded in response, then picked up her comm link. 




It was Recruiting Sergeant Horatio Kine, with his prosthetic leg that found Terra after receiving orders to track her down by the High Command. He carried a bundle of equipment under one arm and with the other free hand, he swept off his cap in a mocking salute. 


“Lady Mandalore, the empress bids you welcome and asks if you are prepared to die for a backwater world like Corellia.” He gestured to the men behind him who stood as massive examples of the old imperial ideal. Stormtroopers in amour as black as night.


Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

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Aidan met the team exactly when he intended to, and with a final inventory and preflight check they were on their way. For a long time, Aidan was silent, distracted. Until they jumped to hyperspace he found his gaze transfixed on Nar Shaddaa, an unshakable feeling of leaving the most important things to him behind. It wasn't a familiar feeling, but rather than turning to introspection to examine why, he simply allowed himself to be lost in the moment. Though it lasted a while, to him it wasn't nearly long enough, despite the clear knowledge that it would be over before he knew it.

As stars slipped to starlines, he notified the crew that he would be meditating, and that a briefing would convene an hour prior to exiting hyperspace. Before retiring to the rear of the cargo bay, he put one crewman to task, modifying several shipping containers to hide their disassembled weapons as common looking parts. Lightsabers would become cooling tubes, blasters would become various other parts and accessories. Power packs would power actual cooling units and energized locks.


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The face stared back at her, looming from the depths of the crystal cube, projected by the force into her mind. The face sat there, waiting, age long lining its curves, the sides of his eyes wrinkled deeply by a long life of mirth. After what could only be described as an eternity a soft voice echoed through her mind. Though it carried the gruffness of age, it was not harsh.


What do you seek child? 


She felt surprised enough by the question that it caused her to hesitate, she took a breath, letting the smell of the incense wash over her senses. She breathed out, letting all the bitter air in her lungs go along with it.


Wisdom she breathed


So you seek it all? Or just some of it? There was a wry smile behind the voice that did not condemn.


Her eyebrows narrowed. I seek...I seek its path


The voice in her head was like a smile. Then you must find yourself firs


She took another breath and nodded. 


Let us attend together to the path of wisdom


((Continued in the Dejarik Board))


Calix Meus Inebrians

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Even in the midst of preparing for battle, there were always those who needed to report to the Grandmaster. Adenna was used to it, and though the Jedi were fewer in number than they had been at their height, there were still a lot of them scattered throughout the Galaxy. She felt a twinge of guilt that she couldn't focus on them all, but she had to prioritize everything.


However, when the Mon Calamari Jedi approached her, she was quite familiar with the repercussions of what happened on that mission, even if the details were a bit hazy. Other Jedi, traders, soldiers, and even the Galactic Media had been following that story, and none of it was good. The entire planet was a mess, and there were reports that the Sith were initiating an orbital bombardment. If they had more ships, they could assist, but to attack there would be folly, and so another planet fell into darkness.


"I do not yet know all the details, Padawn," she answered, "but I do know that no single Jedi could have changed the inevitable there. The Sith came in too great of numbers and with too much power to oppose them directly, and so you did well to survive and return. What happened on that planet was yet another in a long list of tragedies, and if we are ever to stop it, we must do so methodically and carefully. I can tell yours is not a violent soul, so to join me on my path would not suit you. Go to Scarif with Master Sarna where you may find solace and understanding helping a population through something other than warfare. If the Force wills it, we will speak after both us return from our duties."


She wished she could spend more time with everyone here, but the war had waited long enough. It was time for the Grandmaster to move off of her starting square and join the fray. She took a shuttle up to the Justice's Mandate as the small fleet prepared to make to hyperspace and Serenno.

Edited by Adenna Alluyen

Adenna Sig


Send PM's to Travis.

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Leena slowly nodded. It was not the response she had necessarily expected. The darkness had permeated the very pores of Mon Cal. Even if she had no memory of it, it was the home of Leena’s people. Maybe that was why she felt such a connection to it.


The Grandmaster clearly had bigger worries than Leena and her mission. That much was apparent; but to not even comment on the Jedi who were still there? Did they not deserve rescue?  Maybe they had gotten out and Leena was just not privy to such knowledge. They were, after all, undercover. Right?


Leena was not remanded to her quarters or to some obscure corner of the galaxy to heal others and mend agricultural injuries. Quite to opposite; she had been told to accompany Master Sarna to Scarif. Steeling herself in the force, Leena nodded in compliance and made her way out of the room, head held high. It could be the desperate times they were in, but she was still a Jedi. Walking down the hall, she felt the smooth silvery hilt of her signature weapon bouncing rhythmically against her thigh. The young Mon Cal smiled. Jedi or no, she knew her place in the galaxy. She was there to heal the broken hearted, to bind their wounds and to restore not only their bodies, but their souls. Perhaps, whatever awaited her on Scarif would allow her to do just that. And, perhaps, she ran her fingers along the hilt, she could learn a thing or two about combatting the dark on a physical plain from the famed Sandy Sarna.


Turning, Leena made her way to the Healer’s quarters where she could find new robes, and if she was honest, an extra set or two, rest, and peace.


Settling into her bunk, Leena crossed her legs, the backs of her hands against her knees as she leaned back and stared at the ceiling. This was her home. Here, she felt peace. Reaching within, the young girl felt the surging warmth of light in her chest. Inhaling, she drew on the light around her. Exhaling, she sent that light back out in an invisible cleansing surge pushing back any tendrils of darkness that dared creep into her domain of peace and life.


Leena did know how long she sat there, embraced in the warm flow of the force. What she did know is that when she finally awoke, it was morning and she felt refreshed.


Grabbing her extra gear, Leena hurried out of her quarters. If she hurried, she’d have time to grab breakfast before meeting up with Master Sarna for their mission.


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The Echani girl turned to watch the Soldiers assemble before her, their commander clearly uncomfortable with her presence. She recognized the assembled forces as those of the deathtroopers, part of the elite Imperial forces that made up the core of the Rebel Alliance’s fighting units. She returned the salute with a mocking curtsy, grabbing at the hem of her olive drab jumpsuit, dipping her head so that her blonde plait bounced in the air. 


“I am no longer a Mandalore, I am Dar’Manda, one lacking ijaat. Without Honor as you will.” 


She gave the soldier a maniacal grin, flashing him with her sharpened darkmetal teeth. A few of the deathtrooper’s hands moved slightly towards their holstered weapons. She licked her lips with her scarlet tongue, a small twitch contorting her smile. 


“I intend to restore my honor, and if I am bound to that by The Forlorn Hope, then that will be my duty.” 


The girl split the air with a whistle, and a dozen men and women emerged from the crowd, all dressed in olive drab. Her old squad had listened to the call, and over half had come. She picked up the proffered datapad, analyzing the data points and attack strategy, before transmitting the data to Hades for further analysis. 


A grizzled man stepped to her side, Harjav Fieldgrey and motioned the others over to join her at the datapad. Five there were now, only the  twins Arna and Longkra matched with the lovers Aoarn and Bas’ar. They looked tired and drawn, battle weary and defeated. Her eyes wandered to each other theirs and they saluted warily. Terra paused her search and offered a query


“Where is Shen?” 


Harjav shook his head slowly and sighed before he gave an answer


“Shen took a squad of greens to explore the Maw, haven’t heard from his shebs since. All we got was a corrupted com-call message about everlasting hunger.” 


Longkra brushed an ebony braid behind an ear, her combat AI speaking in its droll commentary 


“We are here to regain our honor. For redemption.” 


The Echani nodded her head, her mind filled with the sorrowful failures of the past. It was crushing, the agony of defeat. She had felt so right that they would conquer the galaxy, but it had been only madness. 


“Get your beskar, ramp is up in ten.” 


Terra turned back to the cadre of imperials, giving them a small smile. 


“Tell her that we will be her Forlorn Hope, or die in the process.” 


With that, her squad loaded the drop-shuttle with their weapons and armor. Most of it was illegal on Imperial Worlds, but they didn’t seem to care. Harjav loaded a disruptor rifle and gave the imperials a grin as Terra walked up the ramp. Within moments, the drop ship was in the atmosphere and preparing for hyperspace, with Hades trailing behind in his stealth configuration. 




To the Death...

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On 7/18/2020 at 8:51 AM, The Sarlacc said:

”As such, we ought to ensure you are properly prepared for battle. I know you have trained with a myriad of weapons and training sabers back home. It is time to build your own weapon. Even if we do not use our sabers so as to further hide our identities. Do you know how the saber is constructed?”  The Duros carefully removed his saber hilt from his belt and set it on the table between the two Jensaarai. “If you need it, please reach out in the force and use mine as a guide.”


Svata let his mind sink into the Force. He hummed another old song to himself, and it took him a moment to recognize the tune his subconscious had chosen.


It was a funerary dirge.


The soft but steady notes thrummed in his head as they faintly escaped into the air. He saw the Sarlaac's lightsaber then, not in the physical sense but in another way. He saw the crystal, a focal point in the Force that glinted and gleamed with colors indescribable, yet an obvious reflection of its master. He saw hints of the deeds it had accomplished, or perhaps deeds it had yet to complete.


Svata smiled.


"I think I'll be fine."

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Sandy drew in a long breath and let her eyelids flicker open. She did not know what she expected to see, but what greeted her was the still blank cube of crystal and the sputtering remains of the incense burners. And of course Aidan’s sparse, spartan quarters. She made sure to meticulously clean up after her meditation, leaving his room just like she had found it and the holocron relocked in his footlocker. 


After that it there was only time for a quick nap before she needed to report and find the Mon Calamari for their joint mission to Scarif. An hour or so later, she strode into the cafe where Leena was sitting and gave her a friendly wave. 


“Are you ready to head out?” She looked inquisitively to the man standing beside Leena and raised an eyebrow. “And who may you be?”


Calix Meus Inebrians

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Leena smiled warmly as Sandy came over; before she could express her relief that they had left without her though, the Jedi Master turned her attention to the Jensaarai Defender standing a short distance behind her. She had not given much thought to the fact that he was NOT, strictly speaking, a Jedi, and that other Jedi may not know who, what, or why he was there. Swallowing the warm gloppy cereal in her mouth she tried to answer; but the Corellian man behind her spoke first. “I am a kindred spirit to the Jedi; a defender of justice, knowledge, brotherhood, and life. I seek truth where it may be found. I am a Jensaarai and my oath is to aid this Jedi, and by her, all Jedi, in the journey to bring about peace to the galaxy.” He kept his helmet tucked under his arm as he looked over the newly arrived Jedi. “And you need no introduction Knight Sarna. I have read of your exploits and trials. It will be an honor to stand alongside you both as we journey together.” Offering a somewhat warm smile as he looked at Leena and then back to Sandy.


Swallowing her food Leena continued, babbling to get the words that had been caught behind her breakfast out. “This is Defender Mantis. He is a Jensaarai. From what I understand they split from the Jedi a long long time ago, but not like the Imperial Knights did ya know? They came to help us beat back the Sith. Apparently I helped nurse Defender Mantis back to health back on Coruscant and he has been called by the force to come and help me and keep me from being swarmed by the forces of darkness so I can focus on helping to heal the damage the darkness has caused throughout the galaxy. Isn’t that right?” Leena glanced back at the older Corellian who was trying to track everything Leena had just spat out in explanation. 

“Well I . . .” 

“After what happened on Mon Cal, I couldn’t be more surprised and pleased with how the force provides. Apparently there are other Jensaarai here too, but they are on a secret mission or something. Need to know kind of stuff I guess. I guess I do not need to know. After everything, I just, I dunno. I’m glad to be going where we aren’t getting blown up, shot at, invaded, or hunted by something truly dark.” Pausing Leena looked around the room before leaning forward and whispering to Sandy, “Maybe we can talk about that sometime soon when there aren’t so many folks around?” Sitting back up she continued, “But I am done here and Defender Mantis finished, he said, before I even showed up. So let me take my dishes over to the wash station and I’ll be ready to go. I don’t even know what we are doing, but the Grandmaster said this would be a good mission for me.”


Trotting off to dump her tray, Leena left The Mantis and Sandy alone for a moment.


“She is young. Full of life and brightness. A guiding star amongst the cosmos.” 

As soon as Leena got back to the group, she would be ready to depart.


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“Well…” Sandy let her voice trail off as the two of them talked back and forth. “I am glad to have you whatever order you serve.” She looked back at the young Leena, “The Imperial Knights broke away from our order because the Council and Grandmaster of the time did not wish to confront the Sith. They were right to break away, and somedays I wonder if I should not have gone with them. Now go, and I will talk to your companion.” She looked back to the Jensaarai and raised an inquisitive eyebrow and the apprentice ran to the washing station. “You are welcome to the grand adventure, and though I wish your order may have arrived a year or so ago, I welcome you with open arms.” She leaned forward. “However, Sir Mantis, before you decide to hang around a Jedi Padawan, I would wish that you would tell me all about your order. For her safety and my own inquisitiveness, I will not have an unknown element aboard ship, especially in a strange environment." She paused to a reflect and to correct her words should they need them.  She decided that they did and added, "I do not say this with hostile intent, however.” 


She watched the Mon Calamari putting the dishes into the cleaning tray, then looked back to Mantis. She tried her best to keep the tiredness from etching her smile. 


“You may tell me of your order and your beliefs as we go if it pleases you.” As the young Calamari came back Sandy grinned. “Now, let us all depart for stranger shores.” 


And together they walked to the Jedi transport Eva-Frenni. 


(Post in space))


Calix Meus Inebrians

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Night had fallen across Nar Shaddaa, and thousands of beings had departed for the next campaign against the Sith. Vos lay atop a roof on the outskirts of the complex. The covering across his eyes was removed and he could see the stars through the light pollution. He had watched the fleets depart, wishing he was on one of the ships belonging to one. 


Within his mind he played out several combat scenarios. His favorite was where he and the Dark Lord killed one another- and he could relax. That was the only future that he could see to be honest. There was no happy ending for him, no child with Adenna, no place for him anywhere. No Dahar, Kirlocca, Sarah and his two other friends- Sandy and Frond were lost to him. Sure, the former was here- but something happened to him on Gala. He had exorcised the place. A jedis life was about sacrifice, and he had sacrificed quite a bit. Something had to give out soon. 


The brands on his skin were still something to get used to, the new way he was interfacing with the Force was raw. He was a conduit for the Force, and channel it he would. While he didn’t want to think about the differences between himself and the rest of the Jedi Order his mind still lingered on the philosophical challenges he still faces. He sighed and looked down to his Jedi robes. 


They felt comfortable on his skin, he no longer had the allergic skin reaction he once had. And for the first time since Dahar names him a Jedi Master, he had called himself such. Then he was actually able to wear the blasted robes. 


He scoffed and rolled his eyes at the whole affair. He felt the call of the stars again. Also, the call of sleep, and he passed out right on the roof. 




In the morning he decided to wander the city, since he was so close to the border that divided the military complex from the civilian section, he might as well… 


It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be today. Where the day would take him was left up in the wind. Several thoughts tried to infect his mind. From the direction of his life, or actually just his existence.


Mind wandering, he found himself in a civilian bazaar. Walking through the booths he wove his way through the dozens of beings. That was until he was bumped from behind by a little girl running from...someone. Whether or not she warranted such a pursuit was beyond him. His right leg jutted forward and his cane whipped up- but he maintained his balance through the use of the Force. Several people turned to see the commotion going on: A crippled, blind Jedi Master falling backwards as a girl no older than an early teen sprawled on the ground. His limbs pinwheeling- he froze himself in the air, bringing his balance back under his control- and his foot came back down and he shifted to face behind him- where the girl had run from. A human male flew forward as Vos used the Force to pull him forward. Just as the boy came within his grasp, the girl tried to run. Vos tugged her ankle down so she remained on the ground. The boys jacket came within grasping distance and Tobias swept his legs out from him- and brought the boy hard to the ground in front of the girl. 


“Why are you chasing this girl?” Vos growled as he held the boy down with the same fist that caught him. 


Vos knew perfectly well- it was all there in the auras flowing around the youths spoke volumes to him. He just wanted to see if the boy would lie to him. Sadly, the boy did. Tobias sighed and whispered something to the boy and his whole demeanor changed. Looking as if he accidentally stepped on a pets tail- and he wasn’t an evil person, the boy when white as a sheet and then slowly nodded his head. Letting him get up, the boy walked off in a seemingly random direction and the crowded bazaar started to turn their attention back to their business. Standing, he offered his hand to the girl- “You alright there?” He asked, helping her up. 


He knew her face was showing how shocked she was that this all had just transpired- and that a blind man had helped her to her feet. As the young girl- a Zabrak female- steadied herself on her own feet, Tobias smiled and dusted off her shoulder. “Yes, then?” 


She chuckled- and responded to him. “Yes, Master Jedi. Sorry, Master Jedi. I didn’t mean to bump into you, I’m sorry.”


“Quite alright, my dear. You won’t need to run from guys playing back-alley dice- when they think you cheat.”


Her jaw dropped and she tried to speak- she stammered. He chuckled.


“Can I let you in on a little secret?” He asked. “I’ve cheated in dice before, well, I used my abilities to influence the outcome of the game but there were never any signs or regulations restricting Force powers at the tables… so is that cheating? Anyways- don’t do it if you cannot deal with the consequences.”


The girl chuckled again, flabbergasted. 


“When you get back into base, come see me- I’ll show you a few tricks other than reading minds and pushing dice. That is, if you don’t get into any more trouble.” Flashing a grin, he left the incognito Jedi youngling behind at the bazaar. For the rest of the day he shopped for two small gems, a leather working kit, and then welding goggles- that last one got him some weird looks as he was already blind. 


The next day he awoke to the usual- checking his datapad first he looked up the security report- nothing of a Zabrak apprentice sneaking out or back in. Pim had presented herself to him early the next morning- and her training had begun. She had been with the Jedi since she was five years old. Her favorite class was telekinesis. Her clan was on rotation to come and work in support roles at the Rebel HQ, she had been sneaking out for about five weeks and had won over seven hundred credits from her spare change of fifteen credits. The boy was tired of losing to her and he had enough because she made a rude joke. After she told it to him, he couldn’t help but laugh and then chide her for her linguistic choices. 


More and more he taught her different ways to work with the Force and then he asked her if she wanted to formally become his padawan. She agreed; That had been two weeks ago.


Now that she said goodbye to her friends within the clan, they had spent three days working all day at some of her skills and her Force stamina. Finally, he felt she would benefit from leaving the planet- and so they did. Tobias was happy to have the Prism back, and the droids- even though they didn’t talk of the mission after Tobias stayed back in the medbay. They had lifted off and he was just reconfirming the destination with the droids as he walked back to the common room as they shot to hyperspace.

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Wake up...

wake up...





Yava sat-up in the bed. Her body being monitored by a medical droid that was startled by her sudden awakening. So the kindly Jedi had deposited her here, a medical ward. So kind, it made her want to wretch. Her body still injured, from the climatic clash, she attempted to get up. 


"Miss... your wounds have not yet healed. It is imperative that you-"


"Where am I... what happened to the ship? Did we-" Yava tried to ask, her words choked by a seemingly clouded mental stated.  She felt better then she had in a while, and she wondered just what the Jedi had done to her when she was unconscious. 


"Kern?" She asked pleadingly as if worried about his return. Yava knew that we as there, deep within, simply biding his time. She couldn't know if her actions were her own, or his, but she knew that the longer she remained that the more danger she was in. 


"Who... who are you?" She demanded finally.


The droid bleeped in recognition and spoke. "I am C4-ZedY, you may call me Zed. You are in the medical ward, level 3 alpha, secured wing." The tall silver and gray droid had a vaguely female voice.


"Secured? Am I... being watched?" Yava asked directly, noticing a security droid in the corner keeping an eye on her. IT was clear that the Jedi were taking no chances.


"Due your interactions with the Sith your movements and actions are to be monitored, and your code access restricts you from-"


"I want to speak to whoever is in charge... I have to leave." she said barked, but her body refused to full stand, and so she sat back down.


"I'm sorry but at this time, no representative is available. I will put through your request though. Be aware, protocol dictates that you be monitored for as long as you are here." Zed sad as he moved on to the next bed, and then to the medical lab beyond.


Yava sat down as she heard a discussion from two other patients, young padawans or soldiers, she wasn't sure which.


"-a full blown master... hasn't been a new one of those in a while." the younger one said with an air of pride.


"Sarna huh, wonder how she pulled that off. I mean to be a master don't you have to accomplish some great feat... like-"


"I heard she killed a Sith lord out there, whole army of droids too!"


"No way." the second youth responded incredulously.


"Makers' word it's true." the younger soldier said as he began to regale the other with a clearly 5th hand account that wasn't even half true. Yet the appointment of Sarna as a master truly stuck with her. It was like someone had jabbed a jagged piece of metal in her eye. 'Sarna' had slain Kern, she knew it now as if she had been there for it. 


"They reward failure, and punish true greatness." Yava said under her breath. 


Yava laid back down... something in her making her angry. Something buried deep within, In an instant she had a vision of decapitating the two insolent peons' for daring to...


"Yava... you're awake! The crews been worried sick." The form and outfit of one of her crew-mates came into view. Yava smiled, doing her best to swallow the bitter hatred that was attempting to pull through. She had to leave this place, and soon.  

"Some things... are worse then death, being forgotten for example..."

Member Since '05 - The Old Ones | Character Sheet

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  • 2 weeks later...

One of their assault shuttles had needed to drop to realspace to make emergency repairs to their life support systems, leaving two assault shuttles and a ragged fleet to turn up on the doorstep of Nar Shaddaa after several course-corrections to hide their true destination, not that it really mattered. Even though it was protocol, the Sith likely knew the Rebels had occupied Nar Shaddaa for some time now.

The shuttle carrying Aidan, Kashi, and Adenna made an emergency landing to a nearby hospital, securing emergency services for the comatose grandmaster. Aidan had tried to help as he could from what little he'd learned of Force healing from Sandy, but it didn't seem to be enough. Still, Adenna possibly could have died had Aidan not done anything, so it was still important in its own way.

Several hours later, Aidan found himself back at the main Rebel compound, debriefing to another Jedi Knight and an Imperial Knight. It wasn't long before the message of what happened at Serenno was sent out, disseminating through the various networks the Rebels and Jedi had. Normally, Serenno would simply be just another op that was marked need to know. But the Grandmaster's situation...predicated a much more involved response.

This was now over his head. For a long time, Aidan sat in his room, ruminating on what had happened, what had gone wrong, the people they had lost, the collateral damage of it all. After a while he fetched a datapad, and began typing.




"Dear Mr. Kurlsk,


Today I'm writing to notify you of an unfortunate tragedy that befell your son while in service to the Rebel Alliance...



Edited by Ary the Grey
Moar Wording


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((Posted by OK.))


So dire were the reports of casualties incurred by the raid on Serenno, that rather than simply taking the word of an Imperial Knight without question, that the Jedi Order dispatched one of its agents along with the Healers scrambled to receive Grandmaster Alluyen. Master Hassan, a veteran of the previous war and trainer of numerous Jedi quietly watched from the periphery of the medical suite while two Healers dressed in sterilized robes sat by a bacta tank. The Jedi Master could only barely perceive the Grandmaster’s outline through the concentrated murk as she bobbed listlessly in the tank. Sensors attached to her body read cardiac activity, neurological responses and endocrine changes… all of which were well outside the norms for healthy human beings. Or any sapient species, for that matter.


Hassan felt the beginnings of a stress migraine building up as the Alliance medtech attempted to explain her dire condition in a gentle, patronizing tone.


“Thank you,” the Jedi Master waved off the technician as the pain began to mount. Muttering something about needing to report to the Order, Hassan staggered out of the room and into the confines of a nearby supply closet. Breathing deeply, the Jedi Master reached to the Force and waited for the throbbing pain to subside. Then, finally, he allowed himself to indulge in a single curse before returning to his duties.


The shout of SPAST could be heard from two floors beneath him.


Minutes later, his recommendations were transmitted to the Alliance headquarters on Nar Shaddaa.




Grek-Mern critically wounded. Status incap. Possible neurological damage? No estimation of recovery time. Healers demand to not be disturbed. Recommend recall Masters, convene Council.


An hour later, he had returned to The Red and Black. There was one more person involved in the raid on Serenno who required personal attention--a potentially delicate interview, considering the relationship between the members of the Rebel Alliance. The finer points of negotiation were somewhat lost on the Jedi Master, but he at least had the sense to visit the commissary before hunting down Aidan Darkfire's office.


It was locked. Understandable, considering the unexpected casualties of the raid. He knocked softly on the door, the best that Hassan could manage while attempting to not scald himself with two steaming cups of tea.

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Kashi could only pace back and forth aboard the transport carrying him, Aidan, and the Grandmaster, their plans finished but carrying heavier weight than what they sought. It was unspeakable, unheard of at least to him, of a Grandmaster injured in such a way. Occassionally Kashi would stop, glancing down at Aidan as he worked on Adenna, flustered at the idea that he was incapable of helping, before his pacing started up again. Eventually one of the men had to ask him to sit to level the weight, but Kashi's never really left the Imperial and his Grandmaster.


When they arrived at Nar Shadaa, klaxons erupted as a escort reached to the heavens in their descent and guided them to the readily available hospital, the next moments a mere blur for the Knight as she was rushed away and into better hands. Running his fingers through his darkened hair, Kashi noticed his pacing had restarted as he looked down the distant hall through the sterile doors, a nervous tick he couldn't help to avoid. And when other arrived to debrief him and Aidan, Kashi disappeared in the hustle of the moment as his comrade took charge.


Part of Kashi felt disappointment in himself for such a failure, allowing such a commanding figure to be harmed during such a minute Operation, especially given his inexperience in dealing with the Sith. But most of him felt the dread that drove him to spend so much time upon Iego, running from what felt so wrong. War was not his venue, even as the Padawan of a Weapon Master. He could feel the unsettling of his emotions running rampant even as it did in those days and the darkness it bored with it. And it sickened him deeply, even to the point of whether the life of Jedi was truly his destiny.


As Kashi walked about, mostly to rid his mind of the haste and clear his thoughts, but to also get fresh air, he could feel the disgust upon him. Blood still stained his armor and skin, his weapons, and his hair. He felt dirty, even after a visit to the refresher. And he couldn't shake it. It felt as if it stained his very soul. But he was beginning to see that this war was necessary. These Sith, even mere Soldiers capable of injuring such a prominent figure as the Grandmaster forebod a deep rooted Darkness in the works and the Galaxy needed to fight it. The question was, though, would he be able to fight against it or would he become a part of it?


Once clean, he reached out in the Force to find Aidan. Perhaps the young Knight could shed some light upon the subject. But as he neared his location, another had already arrived.


Sheog the Mad said:
oof Sheog

Is actually a tribe of autistic ewoks in a costume


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As the door to Aidan's room snaked open, Hassan was met by a ragged looking Aidan who had clearly not shaved or showered since he'd been back. Aidan still held a datapad in his hand, and bags under Aidan's eyes told Hassan that the young Imperial Knight hadn't slept either. There was no ceremony, no snap to attention and salute, but rather weary resignation and a meager comprehension of immediate events.

"Oh. Master...Hassan, right? Come on in. What can I do for you?"

Aidan beckoned the man into his living space, taking a seat once more at the table, either ignoring or oblivious to the mess of dishes and various notes and datapads he hadn't bothered to keep clean since he'd been back. His attention returned to his datapad, as if he barely registered the master's presence, though it was clear that it wasn't out of disrespect but more that he'd burnt out in the aftermath of everything.

On his bed across the room was a half-packed go bag, as if he expected another mission to kick off at a moment's notice. That was the mandate Grandmaster Alluyen had given them before Serenno, the plan to begin to retake territory and hit the Sith where they hurt. This was the time for all hands on deck, and it was do-or-die.

And Aidan wasn't willing to give up, even now.


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The arrival of the ragtag-at-best fleet commanded by the Jensaarai happened with little fanfare or announcement. The repurposed Imperial interdictor task force led the way before breaking off to return to it’s space-based docks.


The fleet looked as ragged and rough as the pirates they had pretended to be. While the hulking Mandalorian warship hung back to await offloading by rebel and once-Imperial shuttles and tugs, the uncloaked stealth ship, spheroid blob that it was, escorted their captured quarry closer to the planet to ensure a safe hand off to awaiting Jedi leadership.


Upon receipt of a cryptic answer that indicated there were no high ranking Jedi available to meet them and a brief heated exchange over the ill gotten gain the Jensaarai had commandeered at the request of the Jedi Grandmaster, The Sarlacc made the decision to simply leave their quarry to the awaiting Imperial forces.


Turning to Svata, the Duros shook his head. “Something is wrong here. Can you not feel it friend? A mission of which none claim knowledge and no Jedi to meet us. I think it wise we reversed course when we did. Sometimes even a river doubles back unto itself. If you wish, we may continue your training either in the telekinetic ways or in the ways of the lightsaber. Otherwise, should the force call you, we can descend to the planet and seek out what knowledge lies hidden awaiting our discovery. I leave this decision to you my friend. We are in the shadows and from the shadows we find the light.”


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Svata considered.

"I agree. This...this does not feel right." He shook his head. "When stuff starts making your skin crawl, that's a good sign the universe is telling you to move along."


He held up his lightsaber and ran his fingers across the simple carvings.




He smiled as he looked back to Sarlaac.


"I think it's high time I learned how to use this properly."

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The Sarlacc turned and slowly looked Svata up and down. “Indeed. The lightsaber, a weapon of the Sith, taken and reformed by the Jedi; now carried by any that have descended from the Rakatan creators and their Forcehounds, now sits in our hands. Thus we carry it, we honor our past as we honor our brethren. Times arise when such a weapon is the best response and learning it’s ins and outs may save your life. Take yourself and change out of your gear. Wear simple clothing and take your weapon and meet me in the storage area where we communed together.”


Turning back to the console and the crew of the Asha’ajak. Shaking his head, The Sarlacc looked sadly out at the rebel stronghold of Nar Shadaa. ‘Like the Jed’aii of yore, from the darkness a light shimmers through.’ “Inform the rebel command that the Jensaarai will return to lend aid in their hour of need.”


With that, The Sarlacc signaled for the crew to take them home. Turning, the Duros left the bridge.


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  • 2 weeks later...

((Posted by OK))


“I just came from the Grandmaster.” Master Hassan left the spare mug of tea on the younger Darkfire’s desk. The Imperial Knight was free to accept the tacit offering or ignore it at his pleasure. “I… cannot speculate on her condition. I am utterly unqualified for that. In the light of the present emergency I’ve sent a recall of the Jedi who have served on previous Councils. Knowing your mother….”


Realizing he was about to indulge in an indelicate remark that held significant value for intelligence, Hassan silenced himself by taking a long sip of tea. “What I mean to say is that the present situation in the Galactic Core and Colonies is intolerable. Even if Corellia continues to hold, it will have been an expensive exchange. A counterattack into Sith territory is necessary--no more of this defend and rebuild strategy.”

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--Continuing off Bar Shaddaa--


The Trandoshan eased just a tad bit as the woman spoke, however it was a far cry from comfort. Trust and words only went do far, yet he was desperate enough to do whatever it took. He glanced at the woman again as she snapped the device and walked onward to an unknown destination. Assuming she was taking Vox to their leaders, he put that little trust on her to do as she said she would. 


Once she waved a group on over, not seeing the woman waved her hand, Vox tensed up. They scurried over and he was ready to defend himself when the woman decidingely introduced them as her pilot squad. Normally, if a Trandoshan wanted to introduce someone to a guest they'd take the guest over to the individuals. Not have them horde over to the guest, that meant a fight was happening. Or worse. Shaking the thought from his head, Vox listened to the woman but remained silent, clearly not wanting to give his name out. 


Finally, though, he spoke, "Chieftain." 


Though seen as petty or arrogant, if the Chieftain wanted his name known he'd tell it. It was like that with all individuals unfamiliar with the Nudono tribespeople, names are rewarded or given out of respect, they were given properly in the way one would ask for each other's names. She didn't give hers, so Vox returned that favor. Though he most likely didn't want to know her name, "Stranger," Was more akin to what he'd likely call her. 


Vox followed them, half listening and minding himself, he couldn't help but look around. Everything was... Too advanced. They covered the land with spans upon miles of cityscape, there weren't any trees or forests nearby, and there was too much of that foreign music he's grown to loath so far. Especially a preppy song that was recently popular, by these people's standards. It was a city after all, but Vox didn't expect anything like this. When he first arrived he was amazed at such sights, but when he rebuilds his tribe it would be nothing compared to this. He'd rather his people be with nature, not with whatever these profaned things were. 


But it didn't surprise the Trandoshan one bit. His entire village only had several thousand of the Nudono, their housings were huddled but they allowed nature to take it over. Vines, moss and berry bushes were allowed, however everything else such as weeds and tall grass were trimmed so they weren't in too much a, "Primitive," state... Whatever that meant. They used healing remedies from the earth, their buildings built of stone and clay, and they frequent in the worships and thanks from their gods after a celebration, successful hunt, or even for another day to live. Days back then were simple, they didn't have to worry about falling numbers, invading Slavers, the Nudono didn't have to run from their home and die on an ice planet. 


It was still a burden on Vox's shoulders, and every time he would think there was a break the memory still burned in his skull. Defeat and sorrow was all he felt since then, happiness returned but slowly. He had friends that died that day, families that if not dead on the impact they fell to either their wounds or the cold. And it will always stick with him, even after he gets the tribe settled anew that day would never fade. It would be arrogance if it did. 

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Aidan was silent for a long noticeable moment after Hassan stopped talking. The Master could feel the tension in the Imperial Knight as Aidan wrestled with emotions he had once thought himself the master of. He was weary, truth be told. He was a soldier, and would obey his orders, this was the oath he had taken and the oath he would uphold, for what worth was a man who couldn't be trusted at his word? But here, now...the limits of his oath were seriously being tested. Aidan found his calm, or at the least silenced his thoughts, and took a sip of the tea Hassan had brought.

"Of course. My blade is ready...should the Order call upon it."

A lie, but one told in muted desperation. Aidan wanted to believe it true, that he was ready to walk out of his room right now and back to the front lines so others didn't have to. Others like the ones who had died on Serenno. And somehow, when those marching orders would eventually come, he would force himself to be ready. But his look and mental state screamed otherwise, even the mess of his own quarters and office looked rather obviously unbecoming of someone in his position. 

But what choice did he have? He had made an oath.

And Aidan would hold to it.

Edited by Ary the Grey


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Within seemingly moments of Beth laying her head down on the soft cast foam pillow in the crowded barrack that the back of her eyelids flashed a deep red, and the resounding siren crashed against her eardums. It was the all too familiar sound of a squadron call. That waking nightmare that pulled many veterans out of a deep sleep decades after they put away their flight helmets for the last time. She must have been in a dead sleep to be so violently awakened, and the scrambling and shout from above her as her bunkmate jumped off his bunk to land heavily on a footlocker pushed her into motion. 


She flung away the comfortable sleep and warm blankets and stooped to pick up Liam from his shocked position on her footlocker before forming up beside him as the XO ran down between the squadron bunks. The Templars had not been assigned flight duty for this day, and seeing that they had nearly 30 hours of flight time in the last two days, they were not exactly thrilled to be called back out to the flight line. 


The twelve pilots of Templar finished their formup as did the 12 pilots from Tau squadron who still wore their grey black Imperial fetters. Beth didn’t much begrudge them that. They were Javelin pilots anyway, a purely imperial craft, and one that had been produced on Nar Shaddaa since the shipyards had been built. They were a motley crew of aliens and humans and some of the cybernetic units the younger Tau pilots had drilled to their skulls spoke of their background. Ex Hutt slaves, and considered one of the upper echelons of the Imperial Academie on Nar Shaddaa, though unblooded. Having been ill fated on all deployments and never launching their heavy rockets except in simulators. 


Beth grinned at one of the pilots who grinned sheepishly back as they both slipped on matching Imperial issue boots. Though Beth pulled hers over the orange jumpsuit that had several months ago replaced her own imperial uniform. 


The dismal alarm finally faded and the XO let the silence hang for perhaps too long before shouting at them to get to the attached briefing room. They filed in at a jog, and beth was surprised to see two other squadrons pushing in from the opposite door. 


One squadron wore the pure white of the Hapan Royal Navy, marking them as My’til fighter jocks, and the other the pale blue of the equally royal Taipanis. Which made them what? Xwing? She could not recall as they all shuffled into their seats. The curious turned down sideplates of their helmets, and attached sensor hooks informed her that they were actually E-Wing Pilots which made Beth laugh. 


This was the most diverse group of pilots that could be imagined. All with radically different flight schools, all with even more radically different flight patterns. It would be a nightmare to address for both enemy and allied TAC planners. 


“Pilots, it looks like a Black Sun or Sith allied invasion has begun on the spice world of Kessel.” The officer held up his hands to forestall any shouts of ‘let them have it’ that might have boiled past shot nerves and tired minds. “I know what you are thinking, but I assure you that our presence there will be most useful. Orders are as follows. Intercept and Destroy any Black Sun or Sith assets. Then engage and destroy any spice operations that are still operational.” He smiled grimly. “We may not want anyone grabbing glitterstim, but we certainly do not want the damned Sith to have enough to poison the waters of every planet. If there are civilians in sector, limit casualties and simply settle for destroying the Sith that you see. But if intel is bad, settle on destroying the Spice operation, and we will send in a fleet to extract the slaves." 


The overhead projector clicked on and a holographic representation of the lopsided asteroid popped into place. 


“Tau will hold back in case large Sith Assets are in place. In which we will engage and destroy. Templars, you may be called to assist the Mandalorians earlier dispatched on ground or air so pack for both.” Beth sighed at that, but as a commando she was ready for either event. “Aérien and Sukhoi will fly combat air patrol and apply CAS as needed. Understood?” 


The pilots nodded. 


“Then may the force be with you.” 


And with that, a Rebel Strike Team made its way to Kessel. 



Rebel Alliance Fleet Command - Lieutenant

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Her master was troubled, that much she knew from the way he walked. As always he was closed to her within the Force- at least to her capabilities. Starting to worry about what was going on he had told her the day before and apologized for leaving her without much instruction. He was pleased that she did continue her sphere exercises as well as meditating. 


She was in the common room, cross legged and meditating on the floor- three spheres tracing different paths through the air when she heard her master call over the intercom. She collected her materials and steadied herself. The dream she had just had was… unnerving. After her master dealt with whatever was the issue was on Nar Shaddaa, she would tell him. Then she felt the vibration through the deck and knew they had returned to normal space. By the time she got to the cockpit, they were descending into the atmosphere for landing. 


Arching one eyebrow- she started to get a little more nervous as her senses became more attune to the ebb and flow of the Force around the planet. A sense of anxiety and dread; she wondered what happened.


After she went back to her cabin and collected her things, she met her master at the boarding ramp and departed the ship. In stoic good grace, Tobias marched towards his objective, taking a detour to the training yard. There he left Pim to resume training using the first form of lightsaber combat. Slowly and methodically she worked her way through the forms, transitioning from one pose to another. After a few minutes of the warm up, she sprang. Her masters ship wasn’t small, or uncomfortable- there wasn’t enough room to practice the full range of her acrobatics. So she “Stretched her legs” and began to move a little faster, all the while moving the small metal sphere through the air.




He had been rude, he knew he shouldn’t have been. The tendrils of force energy were spinning a worrisome pattern. Tobias knew he needed to remain collected to deal with the situation at hand. Making his way through the quarters area he checked in with the temple manager and visited his quarter just to drop a few things off. 


Part of the trail he was on had traces leading off to another wing of the quarters area. A momentary frown and he returned to the path guiding him to this disturbance. In the time that took him to get to the medical wing- he tried to prepare himself for whatever he was about to see...

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There she was- broken, but alive and comatose. 


He stood there, looking at her in the bacta tank. Part of him wanted to break the glass and embrace her. Another part wanted to find the wretch that did this and cut them like a porcine beast. As always the Jedi and Sith sides fought against one another in his mind. That was internal- externally he stood in front of her holding a stoic watch. After twenty minutes the medical staff gave him a chair to sit in.


Thanking them, he asked if the lights could be turned off for fifteen minutes and for some privacy. The obliged him, and after the latch clicked- he sunk into the Force. 


It was a familiar setting; one he had shown the Inquisitor moron. Tobias reached to Adenna's mind and wove it gently in a dreamscape that she would ultimately be able to control- once she was strong enough. This would just give her some rest and relaxation- mentally. There was a cabin, a serene lake to the north, and a pine forest surrounding them on the other sides. There was just he and Adenna in this dream. Then, once he saw her- a little piece of him broke more and he wished he could stay. Sadly, this was not where he was to stay and would have to trick her a bit. So, he made a doppelgänger and let his partners mind pick up the illusion there. 


As he separated the image of himself and his actual presence- a pang of sadness permeated every part of the Kiffar- but he gently pulled his presence away from the woman that- 


He cut his train of thought off, going deeper down that path of thinking would only make it harder if she were to become one with the Force. As he regained consciousness and awareness, his face was moist and he quickly brushed his face dry once again. Then, the lights came back up and the staff reentered the room. Thanking them, he departed for the time being- just requesting that the chair remain, as he would be back. Often. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

As the Jedi ship broke from hyperspace above the world of Nar Shaddaa, Leena roused herself from the restful trance she had been sitting in. The whole ordeal had been overwhelming, not the healing of Master Sarna, that was a bit above par for the course but something she was at least accustomed to; but leaving the planet. Had Master Sarna really knighted her? What did she do to deserve such a thing? All she had done was heal the Jedi Master. Master Sarna had done the work of saving Scarif, not Leena. That was a Jedi move for sure.


Still, having time to meditate on it, Leena had come to understand. She understood that she did not understand, but that was ok. She understood that sometimes the ways of the force were beyond what her mind could comprehend. That was ok. All she needed to do was ply her part in the greater picture. “I am one with the force and the force is with me,” the girl whispered to herself. She felt a warm glow in her chest, a reassurance of the rightness of her path.


Making her way towards the cockpit, the Jedi stood behind the pilot in his chair. “Can I use the comms please?” The pilot gave Leena a confused smile before handing over the mic. 

With a crackle it sprung to life, “Nar Shaddaa base, this is Leena Kil, uhhhhhh, Jedi Knight?” The title rolled off her tongue more as a question than with the confidence one ought to have with such a promotion. “We are returning from providing humanitarian aid and are requesting landing clearance to rendezvous with our fellow rebels.” Leena paused as the pilot held up a crumpled piece of paper for her to see. “Transmission code Beta Four Epsilon Epsilon.”


Soon enough, permission was granted to land near the Jedi compound and the vessel began it’s decent planetside.


Finding Sandy and Tali aboard the ship as it began landing procedures, Leena smiled and waved them forward, “We reallt need to go to the infirmary and make sure we do not have any residual effects from the radiation. I don’t really feel any, but the stuff can be a beast to sort out and it is probably better to be safe than sorry if we have a bit. No sense having something flare up half way through some ancient Sith tomb or fortress.”


Leena’s excitement at being back amongst the good guys was almost palpable as her light footsteps carried her quickly down the ship’s ramp to the surface of the world.


It did not take long to find the medical ward. Amongst the smell of antiseptics and bacta, Leena felt a different sense of peace. Even if she was a patient this time. Sitting there in a sterilized gown atop a gurney, the Mon Cal relaxed as two rebel medics began their scans.


Closing her eyes, Leena allowed her mind to slip into the flow of the force. The warmth in her chest glowing and growing as she nurtured it; reaching outwards, first to those who tended to her, then further to her fellow patients and other medics, and then beyond the walls of the ward to those going about the base. In each, even the darkest rebel souls, she could feel the light and drew it forth, nurturing it’s life giving warmth until it blossomed in an invisible warmth across the entire compound to invigorate and instill in each and every heart and mind peace, hope, and healing.


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“Now this…” Britt waved her hand towards the magnificent building of metal as they mounted the stairs to the old Moff’s complex that formed the heart of the Rebel Alliance base. She turned the wave into a point that motioned towards the northmost tower. “...Is the tower of the Jedi.  Right across from our brothers and sisters in the Imperial Knights!” 


She continued at a brisk walk up the long flight of stairs before turning back around. 


“So tell me about yourself Chieftain, where do you come from and what do you want to do with your life?”

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Vox gazed around aimlessly as he strode just behind the Jedi, taking in every single sight, sound, and every word and advertisement he was looking at. These people were beyond his own advancements, his own people's beliefs and understanding of technology were different. They were primitive compared to this great city and it's vices and wonders, but Vox didn't envy them one bit. Ae society like this was not what he aimed for. They covered the earth with roads and massive buildings, they had flying personal ships above and the smells of the city he didn't like one bit.


Vox understood why they were kept to one spot as this planet, these people and their daily ways of living were too much for the Nudono to comprehend. And he'd rather keep his people to simple living than any of this. Slowly as he remained on the planet Vox's amusement and curiosity began to decay, he'd need time and someone to help him understand all the complexities. That and the fact there weren't any of his people, and it made him feel anxious to get this ordeal over with and meditate back at the building the War Pack called, "Home."


The Jedi caught his attention as they approached a massive complex, stepping off the stairs that lead from one end to the next, Vox's gaze seemed to direct toward a metal building of sorts. Their home, these Jedi, was unlike many of the other buildings but he cared less for it. It was the people he wanted to know, not a large slab of iron. He began to walk up the long flight of stairs and when the question from the woman came, he hesitated, but his harsh eyes td otherwise. 


'My Life?' Vox thought, the many images running through his head. He remembered the burning smell of Ivoran bark and the roasting of Tikkik birds, Vox remembered the fresh lush air he breathed and the younger life he lead playing with friends and communing with the Chieftain, his father, as a child. Vox decided he'd then become a hunter, but his skills allowed him in as part of the War Pack. Military training hardened the young lad into a vicious, honorable, and respectable young Trandoshan, and he'd learned patience and various life lessons. 


Vox Bloodstorm, a prodigy any patent would be honored of having, had lead a simple yet good life this far. He fought through the ranks until he eventually became the Alpha of the War Pack, and it were the memories and responsibilities, the hardships and love for his tribe that drove him to greater heights. It wasn't just Vox that made him who he is now, it wasn't his father either who always treated the young man as a friend and a true son; it was the tribe and it's people, it's principles and ways of life, the very thing he made an oath to protect and preserve at any cost. And in doing this, it seemed he felt this was the right decision to make. 


"I suppose I come from where all Trandoshans come from," Vox replied in Common Trandoshan, "And as for me, my life will not be an easy one. I only joined your forces because one of your kind offered to me find my people a new home; away from the etches and wildfires of this war. In return, my War Pack would be heavily involved between the affairs of the Alliance and the Black Cloaks." 


Vox stopped himself before correcting, "The "Sith" as you call them. They were responsible for the death of many in my tribe, hundreds, with only seven of us left. I know more of my people are back home, under the rule of another if they are still alive. One day, once I'm ready to face him, I will return for the remainder of my people. For now, my efforts are getting reputation within your people's ranks, so that when the day comes, I can take the tribe from the cold grip of despair." 


The Chieftain would have said more, but he hardly knew this woman. He was anything but false and dishonest, and no matter how much it hurt he wouldn't lie about anything. At least not to an ally. It was clear Vox's goal was realized, and if one could feel it, the determination and the grip of this goal was as hard as metal. Unbendable, incorruptible, unbreakable. There would be nothing to stand in his way, not matter if it was good or evil, no matter if it meant life or death, his life was forfeit for his tribe, and no one will say otherwise.

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