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Ylesia


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Ylesia

 

Astrographical Information

Region: Outer Rim

Sector: Hutt Space

System: Cha Raaba

Orbital Position: 1

Moons: 3

Grid Coordinates: S-8

 

Physical Information

Class: Terrestrial/Tropical

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable

Primary Terrain: Islands, Jungles, Mountains

Points of Interest: Mountains of the Exalted, Hutt's palaces

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: Humans

Immigrated Species: Hutts, Twi'Lek

Primary Language(s): Galactic Basic, Huttese

Faction Affiliation: Neutral

 

JediRP Canon History: 

Designated as one of the main evacuation jump-points for the Rebel Evacuation of Nar Shaddaa. 

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Six hours of work after blasting their way through a blackaide, and six dozen patients. Likely a hundred more to go. A nagging part of her brain screamed that she should just lay down and sleep, but this was not the time. She had received medical training as part of her life in the naboo palace, and she would be damned if she didn’t put that to use. She ran a bloody hand across her brow to wipe some sweat from her eyes, then looked at the next patient on the triage list. 

 

Aidan Darkfire | IK-001366

 

She looked at the small datapad that was strapped to her arm and frowned. An Imperial Knight. She looked up again and her gray blue eyes focused on a man in white, blood stained armour sitting a few seats down on one of the jumpboard seats. She picked up her kit and walked over to him where she knelt and gestured to the armour on his side. 

 

“Knight Darkfire, is it all right if I take a look at that wound? Stablizing care only until we get planetside.” 

 

The red cross patch that was sown below the symbol of the royal house of nabboo she wore on her brown fatigues showed that she was at least medically trained, and qualified to assist him. Even if she did look every bit as young as her sixteen years portrayed. She held up a hypospray from her kit and grinned. 

 

”Or if you want I can give you the equipment to address it yourself. I know you have the force to help you out.” A dumb attempt at humour. But she did not have the energy left to try anything clever, and there were at least a dozen more patients on this level of the medical transport alone.

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The trip had been long. While not entirely quiet (as the medical staff had been required to perform their duties), for Aidan it felt decidedly...muted. It was never fun processing the horrors he witnessed, but it was an important part of the healing process. At some point, one of the medics approached him, asking about his side. He hissed as he touched at the edge of the burnt stripe on his side, noting how weird it was to see himself through his armor.

 

"Put it like this, the Force helps those who help themselves. I don't really think I have the energy and focus to do it properly before it scars badly. So...I'm all yours. Of course, if it's just stabilizing care, I think I'll probably be okay until planetfall if someone else needs attention first."

 

He looked around, but nobody seemed to be in intensely critical condition that wasn't already receiving care. Still, Aidan wasn't the kind to take needed resources away from someone else when he could easily do without.

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“Well commander Darkfire, I will do my best.” She mocked a salute, then knelt down in front of him. She raised her eyebrows a bit and she indicated towards his side. “Raise your arm a bit if you can.” 

 

Her hand touched the burned and bubbled armour around the wound and she pulled the strapping aside to release the section, revealing the underweave that was equally damaged and blood covered. She pulled a set of shears from her kit and with deft  fingers, cut the underweave away from the burned and blackened skin. Next came a hypospray of disinfectant, which she discharged into the wound and around it. Then she pat dried the blackened flesh, before adding a fingerfull of bactane which she gently rubbed into the long furrow of flesh. 

 

Then she placed the gauze against the wound and wrapped it in place. 

 

She sat back on her haunches and looked up at the older man. Wiping her brow again, her fingers touching the bloodstained circlet of gold that stretched across the top of her forehead to disappear into the hair above her ears. The only mark of her now destroyed kingdom that she wore besides the flight insignia on her fatigues. 

 

“So you took a lightsaber wound. I hope you gave back more than you got?”

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He flashed a very forced smile at her question. There wasn't a lot of anesthetic to go around, so he'd had to endure a fair bit of pain before the bactane finally began calming things back down. The disinfectant's notable sting made it feel briefly like his side was on fire, but it was only temporary.

 

"Yeah, something like that." He didn't, and he knew it. He was lucky to survive. He was always lucky to survive. But there was no honor in shoving wartime horrors off onto the nurse trying to care for him. That wasn't her job. But she still sat with him...which admittedly, Aidan found comforting. 

 

And then there was mildly awkward silence, which he chose to fill first.

 

"You said this was a lightsaber wound. You see a lot of those, then? Not many nurses outside the high and mighty order seem to recognize them, always try treating them like blaster wounds at first."

Edited by Aidan Darkfire

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She shrugged her shoulders, rocking back on her heels and forcing her overly tired legs to stand herself up. She kicked the heel of her boot against the decking, to get some more life into her right foot, then she looked back at the Imperial Knight. 

 

“I’ve seen what they do to innocent people mainly.” She gestured to her brown fatigues, the same ones the Royal Naboo starfighter wing wore. “Sith lightsabers made a quick killing of my people. That is when they weren’t obliterating all that I loved from orbit.” 

 

The young queen would sup from the cup of revenge in time, and there was a flash of anger in her eye, before she blinked it away with a smile as equally fake as his. 

 

“Knight Darkfire, I am Queen Namari of the Naboo. It is a pleasure to meet you, despite the circumstances.” wiped a bloody hand on her pants before extending her hand in the normal political greeting of the galaxy. 

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Posted (edited)

Aidan was rather dumbstruck as the Queen revealed her identity, though honestly it was more his muscle memory telling him this person demanded respect, and that he needed to be formal... now was clearly no time for formalities, even though it was clear she 

 

"That would explain the tiara, I suppose." He paused briefly as he measured the next few words more carefully. "I'm... I'm sorry about what happened to your people. I'd heard it was bad, but I had no idea." 

 

More stunted silence as Aidan had clearly gone straight for the tender spot. "It's, um...it's a pleasure to meet you as well, um... your Highness?"

Edited by Aidan Darkfire

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“I am nearly a queen in title only, and until we free my people, they will continue to suffer and die under the hands of the Sith.” Her gray blue eyes looked deep into his as she stood up and placed her hyposyring back into its refill case. “When that day comes, I will make sure we are never so vulnerable again. Whatever it takes, I will do.” There was a dangerous air to her words, something that spoke deeply of vengeance and destruction. But she wiped that away with a friendly grin. 

 

Your family reputation precedes you Knight Darkfire. Maybe in the future I might ask you to help train my army.” She smiled and with her smile came the gentle suggestion in his mind that such a thing would be a really good idea. An amature mind trick, and one he would easily detect even as she did it unconsciously. A trick of a force sensitive young politician.  

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Aidan turned shock and surprise into a forced laugh. Train an entire army, that was an absolutely great idea, let's have the mentally scarred lucky survivor be the training template for a whole new generation of political sacrifices. In fact, he'd never heard a better idea from a combat instructor except for every idea ever...oh. The realization was rather sudden, but it only caught him off guard because he wasn't expecting it. Of course, she was a politician, this might have easily been second nature to her and not an intentional slight.

 

"I always forget about the last name. It's kind of easy to get lost in the rank and file of the Imperial Knight uniforms, and frankly I'd gotten rather used to it. Look your highness, I can respect what you're trying to ask of me, but in good conscience I can't do what you're asking of me."

 

Aidan wanted to let it go, to let it be that, but here she was playing nurse in a warzone instead of still pretending she was royalty. She actually gave a damn enough to try and use his family name against him in desperation to help her people. If she were trained, this would be her weakness. There was the potential to do a lot more harm than good if she were trained and then fell, but the aggressions of the Sith demanded all hands on deck in the war effort to stop them, proven by her simple service with the medical crew. She had the willpower, and the drive. Aidan may have found his peace, but he still felt broken, scarred. At the least, he might be able to help sculpt something beautiful from the mistakes he'd made.

 

"But...you might be able to."

 

It felt like another of his classic moves, the Jedi would likely have rejected her long ago for her potential to fall, but they should have rejected him for the same warning signs. He proved those old stigmatized molds could be broken...and she also deserved a chance to prove it herself.

 

"Have you ever been tested for potential training in the ways of the Force?"

 

Desperate times. Desperate measures.

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A bit of the dried blood at the corner of her eye flaked away when she smiled. It was a frustrated smile, but not a mean one. She had heard a lot in her few years as the Queen of Naboo, but she had never even thought of training for the position of an Imperial Knight. She was no warrior, but yet that lingering feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she could be. And what would be better for Naboo than a queen with the ability to defend her planet? She could feel the frustration begin to melt away into a vague hope that she had not felt since she had seen the black shapes of Sith Star Destroyers drop into orbit in the peaceful blue skies of Theed. 

 

She shouldered her bag of equipment and took two steps to the next patient, a twi’lek who had taken shrapnel to one of their lekku. A bacta bandage for now, then full submersion and surgery when they got planetside. She unwrapped a roll of sterile gauze before she looked back to the Wounded Imperial Knight.

 

“I have not been tested, but if you have one of those tests lying around you can give me while I work I wouldn’t be opposed. So test away Knight Darkfire.” 

 

She gave him a bright smile, and went to work. Her mind full of the possibilities that such training could bring. 

 

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"Uh, well, it's not quite that simple..." Aidan looked around, realizing they did have plenty of medical equipment about them.

 

"If you can run a resonance scan on a sample of blood, we can get an idea from your midi-chlorian count. Other than that, we'd have to wait for one of the seekers from the Jedi or for the Imperial Knight HQ to reestablish itself. I think there's like some trick to telling, but I don't know it myself. I can say you have a rather strong and influential presence about you, a trait commonly found in those who learn the ways of the Force."

 

He sat back scratching his head.

 

"But...if this is something you're serious about doing, then we'll have plenty of time. This is more than some cool mind magic and flashy swords, this is a way of life. One that conflicts with a life of politics."

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Anne let her gaze linger, tracing the outline of the imperial crest on his armour, then back up to the Imperial Knight as she finished wrapping the damaged and twitching lekku. She lay her hand on the young woman’s face, whispering a prayer for healing before letting her eyes catch Darkfire’s. 

 

“You mean you can’t just look into my mind and find out?” 

 

It was weird to think that something that was portrayed as inherently spiritual in the holofilms could be reduced to a blood count. It took the mystery away from it and left a bitter taste in her mouth. The holofilms and docs she had seen in her childhood had portrayed the jedi as something like monks, spending hours in silent meditation. WHile the modern holos portrayed the IK as some kind of military organization. Relying on blade and word to carve their ways through the Sith. But still, it was an opportunity she would not want to miss. 

 

“Well count me in, but I can’t afford to leave everything behind to go meditate in a temple somewhere. I have a people to save.”

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Her words hung on him, and he knew it was time to stop leading her on and fueling any fantasies about the glamor of a life like his.

 

"Look, I wish I could just reach into your mind like that, but I never learned how. I don't know what specifically to look for. The blood test should easily confirm what I suspect, though admittedly sometimes false positives can just be coincidental."

 

He wasn't worried about that in the slightest. It was more how she'd take this next part.

 

"The only reason I'm making the offer is because there are so few of us left. Truth be told, you may have already been passed over by a Jedi seeker. You're already too old for their preferences, for one, and it doesn't take a psychologist trained at Coruscant's Ministry of Mental Health to see that you have a lot of pain related to what the Sith did to you. To use the Force in anger or frustration is to draw upon the dark side, and to become the very thing you want to protect your people from. I can help you help them, but maybe not in the ways you expected or even thought were possible."

 

He took a breath, glancing down at his armor. He could pass her off to someone else. He didn't trust anyone else. Not in the Imperial Knights, and few among the Jedi.

 

"And I'm not going to make you swear fealty to the Knights. Not if you don't want to. The Force does not bind us to its will, it is a choice, an acknowledgement, a symbiosis. I won't force military service onto you, but I will gladly show you what I do know. This life... it's a stark departure from everything you knew. Royalty, titles, you would leave it all behind. The rest of the galaxy doesn't tend to value us until they see our worth firsthand, and it's never about showing worth for its own sake."

He grabbed a blood sampler and a blank vial from the nearby hovercart, and held it out to her symbolically.

 

"Are you still interested?"

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She looked down and rolled up the sleeve on her fatigues with a blood stained hand. 

 

“I will not put restrictions on the force and where it might guide me in the future. But I will not forget the duty the force has put upon me to protect and foster the people of Naboo. They will always come first. For as long as I live.”

 

She took the syringe from the Imperial Knight and looked him again in the eyes as she pressed the needle into her arm. 

 

“I will swear whatever oath I need to. To Empress or Jedi council, to you or yours.” 

 

She withdrew the syringe and flicked the filled vial before handing it back. 

 

“So when do I start?” 

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"Swear your oath to the Force, if you must." Aidan plugged the vial into the analysis unit, drawing up a resonance scan of her cells. A nearby screen showed a magnified view of one of her isolated blood cells, with a plethora of small specks swimming about.

 

"There. You see? Hundreds, if not over a thousand or so. That's in every single cell of your body. Those things are called midi-chlorians, and they tend to be present in much higher numbers in those who sensitive to the Force. Your average galactic denizen might only have around ten or so per cell. Count itself isn't a completely accurate indication of ability or potential, but it tends to be a strong indication of ability to benefit from training."

Aidan retrieved the vial and tucked it in a pouch just inside his armor.

 

"I'll need that to make my case. I need to contact my chain of command and get authorization, but as far as a time frame, you'll probably be contacted inside of a week or so. After that, we'll begin."

 

He flashed her a warm smile, but in his current state he couldn't help but still look a bit haggard. He knew she didn't understand what she was signing up for. Nobody ever did. But he had faith in her.

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The next several hours faded in and out of Sophia’s conscious memory. She remembered setting a timer to alert her to the Machine’s reversion to realspace–and then her memory blanked until she was being grabbed by one of her passengers–one of Dinsa’s parents, a Duros, who was driven almost to incoherence by the complex mixture of emotions unique to a parent who was terrified for their child’s safety and enraged by a perceived slight in customer service. The historian had no recollection, but a red mist had descended on her vision and she shoved the alien’s hands off of her shoulders, and proceeded to step uncomfortably close to the mother.

 

“I don’t think you understand, but I just took you and your family through hell. They’re shelling Nar Shaddaa. No targets, just people, millions of people. So I’m sorry,” she began to step forward, driving the Duros into the wall of the common room. “If the ride got a bit bumpy, but those psychopaths are just killing people there so you are very fracking welcome okay?” Sophia finished breathlessly.

 

She remembered the tears in her eyes and that she mumbled an apology before retreating to her quarters.

 

The next event that Sophia remembered was sitting on the floor in her quarters, her hands holding a fake Mandalorian-style helmet down onto her head as though shoving the plastoid shell down would protect her head from the migraine-like pounding. It didn’t help. 

 

A muted buzzing resonated within the little room–that was the realspace reversion alert. She must have fallen asleep. Amazing, that she could have fallen asleep while millions of people were dying to planetary bombardment and everyone that she cared about was fighting for their lives. A wave of nausea began to bubble up from her stomach. That provided the necessary motivation for Sophia to push away the helmet and leave her room, even if that was just to rush for the refresher.

 

She next regained conscious memory during the descent through Ylesia. It was a familiar planet to her; humid climate, turbulent and unpredictable weather, a day-night cycle that left that body’s internal clock frustrated and melancholy within a week. Emphasis on the turbulent, unpredictable weather, with an unexpected surprise of gravity that was just a little bit higher than what most spacers were prepared for. In some dim, conscious part of her mind, she reflected that seeing the blinking lights of hazard spot-lumas and the spaceports must have awoken her mind from its trauma-induced daze. Yes, it was probably trauma, she told herself, along with a healthy lack of sleep, caffeination, and fresh food. It would be a landing by instrumentation only.

 

Sophia reached towards her right side and found a stubby mug of tea that she had abandoned before the jump from Nar Shaddaa. The historian blinked and glanced down upon feeling steam. It was fresh–and she was almost certain that it wasn’t her that had brewed it. There were even a couple of biscuits beside it.

 

“Thank you!” She called out towards the passenger compartments.

 

The landing was routine by Ylesian standards–that was to say, a spontaneously-developing storm cell required a diversion and another fifteen minutes circling a landing pad, all the while nervously watching the anemometer and the fuel gauge. But Machine eventually settled, without even suffering any damage from a final insulting Ylesian cross-wind and Sophia’s exhaustion-induced hesitation.

 

She didn’t remember wishing her passengers farewell. She was… fairly certain that most of them were grateful to have reached safety, even if Sophia had some recollection of the stench of alien effluent. She might have even been hugged by a couple of them–a dull ache at her lower back suggested that little Dinsa had probably jumped right into her arms for an overly-enthusiastic tackling hug. None of them had attempted to stiff her or even negotiate down their fare, which was… a pleasant surprise, considering the acrobatics.

 

And then Sophia sat on the boarding ramp, looking slightly dazed and staring into the middle distance, periodically pushing her hair out of her face. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do next.

 

Her head was still pounding.

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A comm transmission came filtering into system, connecting with one of the transceivers aboard the medical frigate, passing the encryption handshake before being relayed throughout the fleet and those few Imperial Knights that had survived, mainly Aidan Darkfire

 

“With the destruction of the sovereign temple as well as the leadership of the Imperial Knights. You are commanded to go to ground until further orders. Operation Reforger. More to come. May the Force be with you.” 

 

It did not carry the insignia of the Masters of the Imperial Knights. But came directly from the hand of the Empress. Signed and dispatched should both command towers on the Red and Black as well as the flagship Misericordia be destroyed. A deadman’s switch for whoever may have survived the fires and destruction of the heart of Rebel Power. 

 

The imperial knights were to rebuild and reconnect with their cousins in the Jedi Order. Serving to bolster the barely alive rebel alliance until further orders came down the pipe

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Cassandra Vinalian - Imperial Paladin -  Champion for Empress Raven Nasra

 

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It seemed that even the force bowed to the will of the government bureaucracy. Something that prickled a slight irritation at the black haired imperial knight in the back of her head. But she was tired, and pretty much everything irritated her. And as the evacuation shuttle touched down, she gave him a nod of approval. 

 

“Well I will be here in and around the medical zone until the provisional government gets put back together. So look me up if you have the time, or if you want to talk about life or something over an MRE.” 

 

She leant over the next patient and began her assessment.

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Aidan's commlink chimed, and he nodded an affirmative at her as he grabbed for it to check the priority message. "Absolutely. I imagine you're not going to be a difficult face for me to track down."

 

The shuttle shuddered as it touched down and initiated docking procedures, and he let her attend to her duties as he checked the message. Seconds later relief flooded his thoughts. This was an unfortunate thing, he'd lost many brothers and sisters in arms today, but on the other hand it solved quite a few issues he foresaw having with the upper leadership of the Imperial Knights. If this meant he was supposed to report back to the Jedi, that would mean a much more lax and receptive training environment.

 

As personnel began milling about the shuttle, evacuating the critically injured first, he flagged Anne down, showing her the message. "War has a way of accelerating timetables. I can say with certainty that the Jedi will be far more receptive to your situation than the Knights would have been. As such, you're welcome to remain in my company effective immediately if you like, I just need to explain the personnel requisition to whoever has been giving you orders."

 

He still needed medical attention, but it wasn't anything a long term bacta patch or two couldn't fix. There would be Jedi healers among the main body of medics, at least a couple if he knew his mother. They could point him toward the nearest Jedi outpost or enclave, likely a temporary setup among the rallying forces. They would have resources he could use, but more importantly, resources she could begin to use. Basic gear for training and the like. He would also need to file the official petition for her registration as his padawan with the Jedi archives, but these days it was digital and streamlined. He hoped. It was also probably high time he requisitioned his own ship...but it might take a journey beyond Ylesia to find one worth owning.

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