webboysurf

Camp Athens - Closed

^{#04ed42 ....|..... outfit .....|..... Main Hall}

The cold air hit Nate like a freight train. His heavy jacket and sweats felt like inconsequential obstacles to the biting wind. While he did not feel the thousands of pin-pricks that most would, the drop in temperature sent involuntary shivers up his spine. His breath formed opaque clouds of steam as he trudged away from the arena, letting his feet carry him in some direction away from wherever his friend went.

Were they friends? They barely knew each other. Well... he had a good idea of the shape of who she was. She was goofy and deeply caring in a way that he had a hard time comprehending. She was honest, like him. She couldn't do that weird healing magic too much. She had cute dimples, and a dozen other superficial things that he could compliment another day. Far more importantly, she wasn't some ephemeral moment like he was used to. At least, she didn't seem to want that.

Nate lifted the cigarette to his lips, flicking open the lighter and shielding the weak flame from the sweeping winter winds as he wound his way down the path. The sensation provided some ritual comfort, giving him the opportunity to parse the tumultuous storm of feelings bursting in his skin. It was a stupid assessment, one rigged from the start to favor meatheads and gym rats. Why did they need to run a course anyways? Something wasn't adding up, and it was clear he was missing something. He had, admittedly, been a bit creeped out when he had spoken to the woman claiming to be a goddess he had never heard of. Andy and River didn't give much of an explanation, and he had been a little too distracted when around Tapeesa and the other gorgeous folks at the party. A military obstacle course seemed like overkill for a sleepaway camp. He hadn't exactly seen people packing heat, which ruled out his ever-present fear he had stumbled into a Jonestown situation. Whatever was going on was somewhere in the middle, which failed to narrow anything down and just made Nate take another long drag of the Newport he was savoring.

Even if he was cold, he could still feel the heat in his blood. He would have preferred to shower, change clothes, and bundle up under a blanket to take a good nap after a rather restless night. Instead, he ran through the stupid course again without so much as a thank you. Sure, she didn't ask... and he wasn't doing it for a thank you or anything more. He just wanted to make sure she was ok. Anyone would do that. Well, no one else did... a bunch of other hot guys were too distracted helping their crushes run through the obstacles again and flirting up a storm. Tapeesa took her frustration at the situation out on him, and he took it like a champ. Now he was out in the freezing cold, smoking to try and focus in a country he had never been to in the middle of a camp full of horny twenty-somethings constantly batting their eyelashes or flexing their muscles at each other. The one person who felt different chewed him out for daring to try and help. Maybe that muscular guy from the party, Elias, was right about her.

Nate stopped his pace, looking down at his lit cigarette for a moment. He clearly was losing it if he was siding with the walking tool over the plug who went out of her way to try and heal anyone who got injured. He took another drag, turning his gaze up at a copse of trees. Hidden behind its branches, Nate could make out another cabin. There was something about the sleek, modern design that almost seemed to call to him. He let out a puff of smoke, obscuring the view further as he stood still, trying to parse his feelings.

Was he angry at Tapeesa? A bit, surely. But... for what? She was a bit grumpy, certainly a byproduct of exhaustion, pain, and hunger. Those didn't bother him as much. Of course, he hadn't exactly been a personal trainer out there. Instead of starting with encouragement, he had ribbed her like they had done to each other the night before. It didn't land the same in the heat of things... and instead of apologizing, he distanced himself. He was a man of his word, and he had left her so he could go about and whine in his own head. It felt ridiculous... but he didn't know why. He didn't owe Tapeesa anything, and she didn't owe him anything other than a well-earned favor that was more of a joke than anything. They were just two ships passing in the night, a new years eve kiss that didn't have to mean anything. He could get his own cabin, like the one hiding behind the trees, and just power through whatever training their scoutmaster was whipping up so his hot streak could come back. Once his luck was up, he could go back home and continue coasting through life with a rotating cast of friends and lovers like he always did.

That was what he was here for, wasn't it? What else was there?

Nate finished off the cigarette, flicking the butt to the ground and stomping out the embers with his shoe. He wasn't exactly sure why his chest felt hollow, or why thoughts of home felt sour in his mouth. He needed to get out of the cold, as the ever-present shiver in his extremities made it clear he was not built for this kind of weather. He couldn't exactly go back to Tapeesa's cabin, he needed a little more time to think. He needed to do something or go somewhere, maybe even figure out how to get a cabin of hi–

A loud, guttural grumbling cut off his train of thought. It took him a moment to process the sound. It took a longer moment to realize it matched with a feeling in his stomach. It wasn't exactly painful... more like a churning. He let out a sigh, only just recognizing that he was almost certainly starving after eating nothing more than airline food and pop tarts in the past couple days. He didn't know where exactly he was going to find a cafeteria... so he just wandered his way back in the direction of the large field where the party had been the night before. He shoved his trembling hands into his jacket pockets for some warmth, and quickly trudged through the snow towards the large building he had seen a few campers head towards.

Minutes later, Nate burst through the entrance to the main hall a little more forcefully than intended. He quickly lifted his hands up to his face, blowing on them and rubbing them together to regain feeling. He brushed off some snow from his shoes on the threshold, his eyes scanning the room. He recognized a few faces from the party or from the arena. Pretty boy and scary girl seemed awfully intimate, a terrifying combination that seemed fitting. A young woman had vibrant red hair that felt familiar in a way he did not want to unpack, and he recognized the tall form of Elias sitting with a young woman. Of course, the figure that he recognized most clearly was Tapeesa.

He lingered by the entrance for a moment, letting the door slowly swing closed behind him as his eyes settled on her. His first instinct was to approach, to apologize and talk. But someone else was sitting across from her, and he wasn’t sure she wanted to talk to him. His chest twisted into knots at the thought, his head tilting slightly in confusion as he tried to reckon with the sensation. A low grumble a moment later was enough of an excuse to brush the sensation aside as just hunger, even if a part of him knew it was something far less tangible. His eyes lingered on Tapeesa’s braid a moment longer, before he reluctantly wandered over towards the buffet. He settled for simple foods: rice, chicken, and mixed vegetables. He figured they wouldn’t be the most tasty, but he wasn’t sure he deserved any of the more delectable treats. He found a table across the room from Tapeesa, doing everything he could to not stare at her and the stranger she shared a table with. He ate slowly, to his body’s protest, desperate to keep to himself while he continued to mull over his conflicted feelings.

---

Location: Main Hall
Interactions: None
Mentions: Tapeesa, Elias, Wes, Trinity, Tapeesa, Andy, River, Mikaela

Star Wars: Shadows of the New Republic

---

"There is still much for you to learn, my apprentice. Though, you will not find this knowledge within this temple, nor its texts, nor meditation here." The echoed words of Jedi Master Ro Nuul matched the cadence of the tranquil temple gardens. Trees brought from all corners of the galaxy shaded the two figures from the bright orange glow of Yavin's sun. Ro Nuul was a tall Kel Dor, his wrinkled orange skin deepening his amused expression beneath a breathing apparatus and goggles. The cadence of his speech was slow and rhythmic, as if trying to prolong the time spent among the greenery. His hands remained clasped before him, as if still in meditation as they spoke.

His apprentice, Kaz Bana, followed with the same reverence of his master. His hands remained clasped behind his back, his head bowed as he listened to his master's words. His eyes remained fixed on the ground before him, even if his senses were heightened to focus on every slight shift in breeze and temperature. He did not need precognition or visions to know the purpose of the conversation. It is one that had been delayed longer than he would have preferred, and it took every ounce of discipline to not rush his mentor.

"To become a Jedi Knight in the old tradition, every padawan must undergo trials. Trials of Skill, of Courage, of Insight, of Spirit, and of the Flesh. I have tested you on these matters separately." Ro Nuul paused, standing still amidst the foliage. He did not look to Kaz with his eyes, noting the burgeoning excitement in the young man. He measured his words carefully. "I believe that you are ready, that your connection to the force and to this Order are exemplary. But..."

The pause was brief, but poignant. The swell of pride in Kaz's chest deflated. He turned his gaze towards the trees and grass, focusing his body on breathing to temper his emotions.
"You have expressed an interest in serving the Republic, and in aiding the reformation of an Investigatory service. Is this still true?"

The question startled the Padawan, his head snapping back to attention. He had not verbalized such a desire in over a year, focusing himself instead on dedicating himself to the trials. He did not understand the connection nor purpose, but the verbal response was swift. "Of course, Master Nuul."

"Do you understand the purpose of such an organization?"

"To aid in law enforcement investigations for local systems and the Senatorial Investigation Service, and to monitor former students of the academy. " Neat, rehearsed, and practiced. Kaz spoke the definition like a mantra, with a wide smile.

"Those are my words, Padawan Bana. What are yours?"

Kaz's smile faltered. He had, in fact, fallen on Master Nuul's explanations of the Corps. The need for such an organization felt sound, a necessity in a time of rebuilding. With a moment to compose himself, Kaz let the words flow naturally. "I seek truth through the force, and I feel a responsibility to share what I know with others." It was a simple reason, but it did not grasp the whole picture. There was a deeper purpose, an unspoken shadow that hung over the conversation. In a more peaceful time, Kaz would have preferred to be a dedicated healer. Preference mattered little with so much on the line, in a galaxy so fragile that a tragedy could spiral decades of work into more destruction. "I do not know the horrors of the Inquisition, but I have sensed the pain in you and the other Masters. If the darkness festers still in the galaxy, it is our responsibility to bring it to light."

Master Nuul nodded thoughtfully, lifting two pointed fingers to stroke his chin. "Do you believe you are ready to face the darkness that lies out there?"

The question felt rhetorical. They both knew the answer. "I am ready, Master."

"This will prove it." Master Ro Nuul slipped a hand into his robes, emerging again to reveal a small metallic disk. With a single tap, the device sprung to life. A blue holographic image projected above the projector, revealing a miniature diagram of the galaxy. A blinking dot at the very fringe of the map drew Kaz's eye. "We have lost contact with a former student, a pilot by the name of Wylin Greegs. A cargo freighter picked up his distress beacon while on business in the Rothana system, but only briefly. She reported it to local authorities back in Republic space. Unfortunately, Rothana lies outside the Republic's jurisdiction." The holographic display quickly began to dim, and Ro Nuul slipped the projector back into his robes. His gaze remained focused on his apprentice, studying him carefully. "I would check in on Wylin myself, but the senate has called for me to speak with representatives to finalize the formation of the Investigation Corps."

Kaz nodded slowly, his forehead wrinkling as he lost himself in thought. Wylin Greegs was no stranger, he was a friendly Rodian that the Padawan had taken a liking to. He liked to tell stories of the trouble he used to get up to in the Outer Rim. Old habits seemed to die hard, even for the disciplined. "So... the trial is to find out what happened to Greegs and report back?"

The Kel Dor nodded. "The Senate has sent a shuttle for me, so I am lending you my ship and my piloting droid for this trial."

A small smile crept on his face. The same excitement that had burned in his chest when they first stepped into the garden had returned. The Nautolan brought both hands together in front of his stomach and bent forward in a deep bow. "I will not let you down, master."

”I know, my apprentice.” Master Ro Nuul’s cheeks wrinkled in an obscured smile for a moment. He hesitated mid bow, his fingers twitching. His voice was lined with a slight apprehension. ”I would advise that you be weary, Padawan Bana. You are journeying into dangerous waters, and it would be wise to conceal yourself.”

Kaz Bana looked down to the formal robes he wore, and the symbol of his discipline clipped to his belt. The meaning was understood clearly beneath his master’s warning. A Jedi wandering out of Republic territory drew attention that could impact his investigation. He would need to blend in.

---

"Traveling light this rotation, sir?" The metallic tone of the four-armed piloting droid was a welcome sound for Kaz. He had shirked his usual bound robes for what the students at the Temple had assured were appropriate civilian wear. The clothing was a sensory nightmare. Kaz's shirt was far too loose for his comfort. The fabric of his pants felt coarse on his skin. The boots he had been lent had the slightest lift and made even walking feel unnatural. The only thing that felt reassuring was the large overcoat, which sported ample pocket space and a means to conceal the saber strapped to his belt. An old reinforced knapsack was the only baggage he brought on-board Ro Nuul's ship, an old T-6 shuttle that had survived the Clone Wars. The fresh blue stripes along its wings were an open signal that it was unarmed.

Kaz turned his attention to the old protocol droid, one that seemed to be a relic of the older days of the Republic. P7-T74 was designed as a simple transport pilot and personal porter. While his frame showed signs of decades of aging, the droid seemed as spritely as ever. It had been waiting near the shuttle's entrance, following the Padawan diligently as he boarded the vessel and instinctively made for his own quarters on-board. He tilted his head against his shoulder, speaking to the droid shadowing him. "Never much to pack any rotation, PT. Do you have the coordinates?"

"I have calculated a suitable flight plan. Master Nuul advised that we remain in Republic space for most of our journey. We will be making three stops along the way. Our last stop will be at Rogue Station in the Scarif system." Kaz nodded in acknowledgment. The aforementioned pit-stop was a small refueling and trading station in the fringes. While the Remnant had been cleared from the nearby systems, years of hardship and skirmishes had left the systems mostly barren. Rogue Station was just another one of the bandages the Republic had tried to place on a hemorrhaging galaxy. It wasn't the safest location, but places like that were regularly monitored by Rangers and the Hutts: after all, spice smugglers needed somewhere to refuel and restock without raising any suspicions.

"Very well. You can begin your pre-flight checks and warm the thrusters, I will join you shortly," Kaz said, a grateful warmth underlying his words. He turned briefly to flash a reassuring smile.

The droid stiffly bowed, the closest approximation it's body had to a nod of acknowledgment. It responded simply, ”Right away, sir." It shuffled off in the direction of the cockpit, cutting through the joint galley and meeting space.

Left to his own whims, Kaz continued off towards the rear of the ship. As he approached the small blast door leading to his room, it slid open with a hydraulic hiss. His chambers were sparse, but rather spacious for a vessel like this. It sported the usual mounted bed, a small desk, and a soft mat in the corner for meditation. Waiting diligently for his arrival, a floating metallic droid greeted him enthusiastically with a series of whirs and chirps. A dim red light shone behind the glass of its visual sensor. Several antennae stuck up awkwardly from the top of it, and an impressive assortment of sensory modules were welded and bolted to the side of it to the point its silhouette more resembled an amorphous blob than its initial spherical design. The Jedi smiled, lifting a hand to gently pat the top of the droid’s frame. ”Yes, yes, I missed you too Obbee,” he reassured teasingly.

Kaz unshouldered his knapsack, placing it gently on the floor next to his bed while taking a look at the desk again. He wasn’t one for excessive decorations, preferring a small set of trinkets he had picked up on previous outings with his master. A small, innocuous mount on the wall over it caught his eye, though. He looked down his chest to his belt, moving the jacket to reveal a gleaming lightsaber. He unhooked it from its holster, admiring the gleaming durasteel frame for a moment. It was the truest sign of how far he had come from his home, the product of years of dedication and training distilled into a single tool. He reverently placed it on the wall mount, watching as metal hooks automatically locked around it to keep it steady. Carrying it around would draw unwanted attention, even if it did provide a level of comfort that felt much needed.

With a couple quick assurances to his observation droid, Kaz made his way to the cockpit. PT was already settled into the pilot’s seat, flicking switches to get the shuttle ready for takeoff. The Nautolan silently settled into the co-pilot’s seat, strapping himself in tight. He focused himself, taking in a couple deep breaths. Even with a highly skilled droid at the stick, flying always made him nervous. He could only hope for a safe flight.

---

| 2 ROTATIONS LATER | THE SCARIFF SYSTEM |

It was hard to process the sight before Kaz' eyes as his shuttle warped out of hyperspace. He had not seen Rogue Station specifically, but he imagined it was not supposed to be so deconstructed. It was like the station had been cracked in half, the floating ring hovering lightly in disjointed floating plates. It was only as another explosion rippled through the station and sent chunks of debris rocketing into the darkness of space that Kaz understood the drop in his stomach before they entered the system. Pain, loss, and anger bottled up in the back of his head, the cries of dozens caught up in a tragedy the Jedi still didn't understand.

And then, it happened. The feeling in Kaz's stomach shifted, the sudden rush of endorphins and adrenaline. Something was wrong, something was coming. They needed to move. His body moved before his mind, his hands reaching for the helm of the co-pilot's seat. The quick yank rocked the ship to the side, auxiliary thrusters helping the craft strafe to the side. PT turned its expressionless gaze to the Jedi, its processors even struggling to compute what was happening. The answer came as sudden flashes of red light illuminated the cockpit. Two brief bursts of concentrated lasers shot past the transparisteel viewing port. Its close proximity was alarming, and Kaz quickly began to put together the pieces. PT recomposed themselves, opting to quickly divert power to the shuttle's shields while zipping off laterally to try and shake whatever was firing at them.

The Jedi quickly reached for a headset dangling from its perch near his controls. He put it on, his fingers reaching for the dials and knobs. He didn't know who was shooting at them, opting to instead flip all the switches of his radio on to broadcast on all frequencies. Certainly this was all just a misunderstanding. He called out into the microphone, ”Unidentified vessel, this is an unarmed diplomatic transport. We mean you no harm.”

As if in response, a starfighter zipped past the shuttle and into view of the cockpit. It was an older snubfighter, a Z-95 with chipped paint and a monochromatic logo of shaded concentric circles on the wings. Kaz watched as the pilot, a human in a flight suit, turned to get a good look at them from his own cockpit. The tense moment seemed to drag indefinitely, the two sides seeming to size each other up. A high-pitched voice crackled over the radio. "Don't look like they're Rangers or Republic, Varrask. Don't look like they got credits either. What's the call?"

An agonizing moment lingered as Kaz looked to the droid piloting his shuttle. He could sense the apprehension from the pilot that had shot at them. Even pirates seemed nervous to shoot at an unarmed transport, especially one as beat up as theirs if there was nothing to be gained. Even those at the fringes wouldn’t want to kick a loth cat while it was down. When the radio crackled to life once again, Kaz’ stomach twisted into knots.

"No complicationsss," a raspy voice hissed.

Everything shifted in an instant. PT gunned it, launching the shuttle forward. The snubfighter quickly dipped into a roll to turn itself around and chase its target. The sudden flash of blaster fire made it clear there was one more... no, two more pursuers. As the shuttle flew above the wreckage of the recently destroyed station, the sight of a heavily armed freighter hidden among the devastation let reality sink into Kaz' chest. They had stumbled into a robbery gone wrong, a show of force from the Crimson Dawn probing at unprotected space. Strapped into the co-pilot's seat, Kaz felt the immense fear that came from a lack of control of his situation. The only thing he could do was work the comms unit, and that had failed to save them thus far.

"Get us out of here, closest system."

"Calculating course for the Rishi system."

"Hur–"

The two were thrown forward against their restraints as another volley of blaster fire made impact. The concentrated fire tore through the shields, clearly damaging the shuttle. They needed to get out of there immediately. One of PT's arms began to press buttons on a console between them, inputting the coordinates while they spun the shuttle around. The cockpit faced their assailants then, three Z-95s bearing down and unleashing a barrage of fire their way. Kaz closed his eyes, centering himself. He had to trust in the force.

"Calculations com–" Kaz flicked his hand to the hyperspace lever, punching it forward before PT could finish speaking. The lights around them began to blur and blend, streaking across the viewport until all that remained were streaks of blue light in a sea of black. The speed of their travel pushed Kaz into the back of his seat, hands gripping the armrests of his chair. A small, frayed laugh slipped from the Jedi as an overwhelming mix of emotions rushed through his chest. The jump was short, lasting less than a minute. As the shuttle rapidly slowed down, a few things popped into view at once. A large barren moon circled a bright green and blue planet, all washed in a red hue from the star blinding their viewscreen. Unfortunately, no ships or stations were there to greet them.

The Jedi quickly fiddled with his controls, taking in a lot of information at once. The hull had been breached, and there appeared to be some electronic interference. The ship diagnostics seemed to blink in and out, with readings on the engines and life support fluctuating from fully powered to unresponsive. Kaz flicked a switch to monitor for radio frequencies, and sighed as he found nothing but background activity. They were clearly still well outside Republic space, and getting a message would be a nightmare. The best he would be able to manage is to get a message out. With a few button presses, a small blue light over the screen shone onto Kaz’s face. He needed to make this quick, while PT focused on calculating another jump.

"Master Nuul, we have run into a complication. Rogue Station has been destroyed, and we were assaulted while attempting to refuel. We are now in the...." The Jedi quickly turned a knob, watching as the viewscreen showed a crude map of their sector of the galaxy. "Rishi system. We are going to attempt to make another ju–."

A loud bang and a violent shake startled Kaz from his message. His eyes widened as he flicked through ship diagnostics. The hyperdrive and left sublight engines all flashed red, with more systems following suit. The creaking and groaning of the metal hull made it clear that the damage they had sustained was more than the superficial hit he had hoped for. More worryingly, a new alarm blared on the monitor: something was coming out of hyperspace.

Kaz turned his gaze to PT, subconsciously holding his breath before he spoke. "PT… take us down planetside." He looked back at the recording device, his tone losing its composure. "Change of plans… we’re still being chased. We are going to make an emergency landing. We need–" Another loud shake and explosion rocked the ship, followed by the flash of blasters. The light on the viewscreen dimmed. They were losing power to auxiliary systems, and Kaz needed to move fast. He tapped a couple buttons on the console, sending out the message to his master in a desperate attempt to get some kind of assistance. PT pushed forward on the stick, launching the shuttle forward with what speed the one engine would permit.

---

On the surface of the planet Rishi, a bright light trailed through the sky. Parts of the shuttle fragmented and split off on the entrance into the atmosphere, while a solitary snubfighter pursued it. The damaged ship veered off, deftly avoiding a mountain peak before pulling into a valley with a deafening roar. While dust and smoke rose from the crash site, the snubfighter passed by overhead, seeming to slow and stall to get a passing glance at the wreckage. The shuttle had come down hard and fast, and the odds of there being any survivors were slim at best. If anyone had survived, they would certainly need help before the snubfighter chose to investigate further.

Scion: The Prophecy of Anani

Edmund Silvaine

Edmund Silvaine

________________________________________ Sir Edmund Tiberius Silvaine Male | 27 | Rodion, née Rosaria Templar of Water _______________________________________________ "Ah, the Pious Bastard rides in again... I wonder what beast he'll claim to have killed this week." ________________________________________

"If the Church wills it, it will be so, no matter the cost." Minor Holy Sigil Location The goddess' symbol will be placed upon the back of his left hand. Appearance Edmund stands a little over six feet tall, with a slightly thinner frame than some other knights of his stature. He is incredibly lean, with little fat on his bones as a result of a rigorous exercise routine and moderated diet. He sports his father's unassuming brown eyes and hair, and often has a slight stubble. His appearance is not as groomed as other Knights and Templars, but Edmund tries not to focus on appearance over his function and duties. He believes overindulgence in even his own looks would violate his vows and piety to the Church. He wears what is required of him and his station, but will often leave a button or strap undone near the collar to keep from being too restrained. He is hardly ever seen without his clockwork revolver prominently resting in its holster, and a short arming sword on his opposite hip. The rest of his belt is filled with pre-loaded cylinders for his revolver, which can be easily unclipped and loaded at a moment's notice. His expression is usually somewhere between a calculating stare and a full grimacing scowl, even when he is just lost in thought or peacefully meditating. Personality Edmund values piety over all other virtues, opting for simplicity and service over grand professions of faith and charity. In reality, he is a tool of the Goddess, and one that has primarily been used as a weapon against the corrupted mutants warped by mana. He is naturally cautious and observant, always reading a room to keep an eye for exits and potential threats. He is quick, calculating, and brutal in his execution of the Goddess' will. While he does not speak much, his words are just as sharp and pointed as the tip of a sword when he does. His only indulgences are literature and music, arts he grew to love from his mother. He is also known to keep others at a distance, putting up walls to guard himself from heartbreak and grief. He has yet to take a human life, finding the lives of all people sacred (even heathens, for they can still be learned the love of the Goddess). Biography Edmund was given a tough lot in life. He was the product of a scandalous affair, one that involved his father abandoning his knighthood and his mother retiring from her position within the Church for a quiet life of art in the Rosalian countryside. Of course, he wasn't even the important direct byproduct, that honor belonged to his brother Edgar. Edmund was born years later, shortly before his mother got very sick. Edmund's father, Oswald, was a proud man who would not let his honor be shamed further and died for it in a duel. Edmund's mother, Maria, developed Mana Poisoning that nearly killed her. She was unfit to be a parent. While Edgar was old enough to attain a tutorship to pursue his passion for arts, Edmund was only six. Maria reached out to an old friend of her husband, a recently retired Templar by the name of Kolya. Sir Kolya agreed to adopt the boy and train him as a page to give him some direction and guidance in the Church. It just involved moving the boy into the remote village of Gukoysk in Rodion. From there on, Edmund was raised and indoctrinated into the Church. He learned to assist with services, to repair armor and weapons, and to fight. The threats that faced Gukoysk were not martial, but instead came from the monsters that populated the remote regions of Rodion. By the time he was ten, Edmund was directly aiding Kolya in fighting monsters. By the time he was sixteen, he was exterminating monsters alone. By the time Kolya became too gravely injured to fight monsters altogether, he wrote a letter of recommendation to his old comrade, Commander Fyodor. Edmund left everything behind to pursue what he felt the goddess was calling from him. He sacrificed his personal relationships, including a rather intimate connection with a young woman named Katarina, to join the Ordo Templi. He served the Church faithfully and without question before being assigned to his Scion, most certainly in an attempt to help instill more traditional values in his ward. Weapon of Choice Edmund's weapon of choice is a specialized clockwork revolver that can auto-eject its cylinder for easy reloading. He is also always seen with a short arming sword at his hip, and a barbed dagger tucked in a sheath in his boot. He has been known to integrate both his sword and pistol into his fighting style concurrently. He has been seen augmenting his bullets to freeze enemies. Misc. Edmund's Theme Music He is a lover of classic books and poetry, especially those influenced by the doctrinal theology and mysteries of the Church He does not make use of the most modern telephonic communications. He prefers to use landlines and carries a flip phone, deeming smartphones an "unnecessary luxury." He knows how to ride a motorbike, a horse, and drive a car. He has never been in an accident, despite the urgency and speed at which he usually travels. Edmund did learn how to play the guitar for Church services, and does play it in private on occassion as his guitar is one of his few earthly possessions. Edmund is a light sleeper, and has been mildly sleep deprived since he took his vows as a Templar. He has not slept more than 6 hours a night in 2 years, and always stays awake an hour after his Scion falls asleep and is awake an hour before they stir. Edmund is left-handed.

Star Wars: Banshee Down

Exaron is back baby!

Star Wars: Shadows of the New Republic

Kaz Cordo

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Kaz Cordo

.................................................... __________________________________________ J E D I P A D A W A N ________________________________________________________ 20 | male | pansexual Specialization | Investigator __________________________________________ ▹ species | nautolan ▹ skin color | green ▹ eye color | black ▹ height | 5' 10" ▹ build | athletic ▹ homeworld | planet ▹ force sensitivity | yes __________________________________________

. A B I L I T I E S force sense .|. force telekinesis .|. force agility .|. lightsaber training .|. mind trick .|. force cloak .|. tutaminis .|. force empathy.|. language comprehension .|. water breathing .|. amphibious anatomy .|. novice piloting .|. forensics training .|. medical training W E A K N E S S E S A N D L I M I T A T I O N S Repairs not included - While Kaz has learned to use basic electronics and datapads, he lacks a deeper understanding of systems and how to fix them when they break. If it doesn't work the first time, he's out of luck. If only the Order had offered some basic repair courses. Land, Sea, and not Air - Kaz hates flying. He was made for being on land or in the water. He has been forced to undergo basic training for piloting, but most of that has been through ground simulations and land speeders. Untested - Kaz has little combat experience, outside training and spars with lightsabers at the temple. He has not seen the harshness of the galaxy up close, and any experience he has outside his homeworld and the temple has been at the side of his master. E Q U I P M E N T Double-Bladed Lightsaber - The weapon of a Jedi, Kaz's double-bladed yellow saber is a testament to nearly a decade of training and dedication. It is finely crafted and well-maintained, with little sign of wear and tear. Scouting Equipment - Kaz carries monoculars, rappelling cables, and other basic field supplies necessary to observe and report from afar. Medpac - Kaz keeps a well-stocked emergency medical kit strapped to his belt. It has everything from field surgical supplies to kolto injections. 0B-4T Observation Droid - Affectionately referred to as "Obee," OB-4T is a repurposed observation probe droid. It is equipped with a built in blaster to act as a training remote, and has an upgraded sensor array package to aid in forensic analysis. __________________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y Calm | Caring | Impulsive | Untrusting H I S T O R Y Raised on his homeworld of Glee Anselm, Kaz knew little of the suffering of the Empire. The Empire had little use for an ocean planet of limited resources, and even littler from their amphibious peoples. Of course, heavy taxes and even harsher travel policies left the Nautolans isolated from the rest of the galaxy. When the Empire began to fall after the destruction of the second death star, daily life continued to move on. The Imperial checkpoints on the surface and the Star Destroyers in the atmosphere left, and Kaz continued to grow and play. He was kept away from any Imperial inspections for as long as possible, for reasons he never quite understood. When Kaz was ten, his future changed for the better. A Kel Dor in tattered robes had arrived by shuttle, and managed to ask after the boy and his parents by name. He revealed himself to be Ro Nuul, and a Jedi seeking to take the boy into his care. He spoke of the old Jedi ways, of the great heroes of old wars and new, and of a future where force sensitives could live without fear once again. Master Nuul offered Kaz a chance to see the stars, to develop his senses, and to restart "the old ways" once again. The boy, of course, accepted. For the past ten years, Kaz Cordo has trained diligently under Ro Nuul's guidance. He has stood by and watched the Jedi Order slowly pick up the pieces and begin to establish itself again on Yavin IV. Force sensitives of all walks of life have come and gone, seeking an understanding and basic control over their nascent powers. Many have chosen to return home, to help their people recover from the oppression of the Empire. Some have stayed, and continued to train and develop their skills. Among their ranks is Kaz, who has continued to study and train under the tutelage of Master Nuul. His master's meticulous training and adherence to "tradition" has grown a bit tiring for Kaz, but has also proven to shape him into a fine padawan. Kaz, eager to prove himself and to join his Master as an equal in the newly formed Investigation Corps, has finally been granted permission to undertake trials of his own. In order to prove his abilities, he has been tasked with investigating the rumor that Rothana Heavy Engineering has begun accepting major contracts from independent buyers in violation of Republic embargoes. So, on his own for once, Kaz makes out for Rothana through neutral space. Little does he know, the sins of the master will weigh down on the student. __________________________________________________________________________________ hexcode . | . #38ba5b ........ ........ creator . | . Webboysurf

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Ralto Xarn

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Ralto Xarn

.................................................... __________________________________________ R E P U B L I C R A N G E R ________________________________________________________ 39 | male | pansexual Specialization | Commando __________________________________________ ▹ species | human ▹ skin color | tan ▹ eye color | blue ▹ height | 6' 3" ▹ build | Muscular ▹ homeworld | Naboo ▹ force sensitivity | no __________________________________________

. A B I L I T I E S master marksman .|. expert demolitionist .|. blaster repair .|. blaster modification .|. proficient piloting .|. battle tactics .|. survival experience .|. starship layouts .|. bareknuckle brawling .|. blending in .|. blaster collector .|. quick draw artist .|. climbing/swimming .|. armored W E A K N E S S E S A N D L I M I T A T I O N S Reckless Abandon - Ralto is a soldier with a long history of getting shot at, blown up, stabbed, and crash landing. Unfortunately, this has instilled an unconscious belief that he is somewhat invincible. He is quick to rush into danger without thinking when plans fall apart. Ranged Combatant - While Ralto might excel in a cantina fight, he is not a particularly skilled melee combatant. His armor does not do so well against things that poke and prod. Rebel at Heart - Ralto fought on the front lines of the Galactic Civil War because he was a radicalized idealist. He suffered under the Empire, and he has been fighting fascists and bullies since the moment he picked up a blaster. He will do everything he can to save people in need, even if it compromises the mission. E Q U I P M E N T A-180 Modular Blaster - Ralto's signature service weapon, the A-180 is usually carried in its blaster pistol or blaster rifle configurations when on an assignment. Ralto does carry additional attachments that can convert the blaster into a sniper for long-range encounters or an ion launcher to deal with droids. Ranger Armor - Ralto's standard issue Ranger armor is designed to be able to withstand some blaster fire, while also sporting limited life support functionality and an encrypted commlink. Ralto has added a hidden vibroknife in his gauntlets in the event of short-range encounters. S-5 heavy blaster - A blaster belonging to his father and a preferred weapon for close encounters. It's sleek silver design is a reminder of his home. It also sports a built in ascension cable. Heavy Ordinance - Ralto has an assortment of grenades, a rocket launcher, detpacks, droid poppers, and other "goodies" he usually keeps packed away in cases on his ship or at his regional FOB. A lot of this ordinance is taken from those he apprehends or eliminates, and he often collects the signature weapons of high value targets as trophies. He does usually bring a couple lighter explosives with him at all times, just in case things get dicey. __________________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y Gruff | Blunt | Organized | Supportive H I S T O R Y Ralto Xarn is the son of a former handmaiden and royal guard on Palpatine's homeworld of Naboo. He was born under Imperial occupation, watching his friends and neighbors suffer under the authoritarian regime. When his father was shot dead in the street for questioning the arrest of a family friend, Ralto's fate was sealed. When he was fifteen, he managed to smuggle himself off-world to join the rebel alliance. From there, his record is impeccable. He was present for the largest battles, earning medals for his valor in saving comrades while injured. He aides Rebel Intelligence in sabotuer operations, destroying key Imperial Infrastructure. He was picked for the secret operation on Endor, and ended up leading a special forces squad in the "clean-up" operations that followed the Emperor's death. Unfortunately, Gallius Rex had enough pull with the senate to place his own First Order forces at a higher priority than rebel fighters in the latter days of the ongoing Remnant exterimation operations. Ralto's team was re-appropriated, forced to serve alongside the Imperials he had spent his life fighting against. Ralto refused to serve a former Moff, and instead resigned from the armed forces. He tried to re-settle on the newly liberated Naboo, but found a quiet life was not meant for him. An old war buddy offered a lifeline: the Republic Rangers were being formed, and Ralto jumped at the chance to get back to what he did best: fighting. He was one of the first to be sworn in, and has mostly operated in the space around his homeworld. He was placed in command of the field office on Naboo, but passed off most of the administrative work to beurocrats and rank-chasers. His public disapproval of Senator Gallius Rex and the Senate committee that pardoned him has made it hard for him to rise in the ranks... but he much prefers his current station as it is. Nowadays, his reputation and connections to other Rangers have made him hard to discipline and a first call whenever Rangers need backup. He has had a lot of trysts over the years, one failed marriage, and a son that he rarely sees. He travels Republic space alone offering help where he can, and is usually the first called in for important assignments. It is no surprise when he was the first contacted about a destroyed station in the Scariff system and a missing Jedi, linking up with a Pantoran to investigate and punish whoever was responsible. __________________________________________________________________________________ hexcode . | . #E19B4C ........ ........ creator . | . Webboysurf

Star Wars: Shadows of the New Republic

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....

S T A R W A R S

Shadows of the New Republic

“This Senate has, rightfully, abolished the practice of forced labor in New Republic prison facilities. This then raises a question: are we to send or execute every boot that served the Empire, including myself? There is a simple option, one that provides purpose to those of us misled by Palpatine and war criminals like Tarkin and Yularen while providing much needed protection to those still suffering under the rule of disparate warlords who have refused to answer for their crimes: a temporary reinstating of the of the Grand Army of the Republic.

For many of us, the Imperial Navy served as a means of mobility and a way to learn new trades. It provided structure and stability, and many of us joined believing we could serve our fellow man. But we were beaten into subservience and threatened by the Imperial Security Bureau into compliance. The Imperial Navy under the direction of Tarkin was more focused on instilling fear in every system than it was serving its stated purpose. We no longer have an ISB, nor a Tarkin, nor an Emperor. We can do what we originally enlisted to do: bring some semblance of peace, not through fear and submission... but through justice.

Once we bring down every Warlord, every former admiral and general who has an active warrant, I will be back here before you all again to ask you to disband the Grand Army. For we will have a First Order, and an only order: to drag these monsters from their dens and before our tribunals, so that they may face the will of the people!”

Grand Admiral Gallius Rex, in an address to the New Republic Senate

Decades after the destruction of the second Death Star, the galaxy has entered a time of relative peace and stagnation. The Imperial Remnant remains a grave threat in the Outer Rim, with various Star Destroyers and their admirals acting as roving warlords. The Republic has chosen to deny further conflict, with renewed threats of separation from worlds in the mid rim forcing the reformed Senate's hand in disbanding most aspects of the Republic military in recent years. A fledgling Jedi Order has been re-established on Yavin IV, though many Jedi continue to pursue their own interests in the galaxy at large. Smugglers and Mercenaries, who would have been criminals in the days of the Empire and the Old Republic, have become lifelines for those in need. The only military personnel in service are Republic Rangers, highly trained soldier-pilots who patrol popular space lanes.

Of course... this tentative peace was never bound to last. Republic Intelligence believes that the fractured Imperial Remnant are beginning to rally behind a new banner. Rumors circulate of rogue force users with no connection to the Jedi Order. Crime families exploit weak and vulnerable systems while waging open war against each other. Rumors have even circulated that new Star Destroyers have emerged for the first time in decades... bearing the colors and and insignia of the Republic.

In the midst of it all, an aspiring Jedi and a Scrapper cross paths in the Outer Rim. The Jedi is searching for an old acquaintance, a fellow student of the Order. He enlists help in completing his trial, unaware of the dangers they are about to uncover.

State of the Galaxy

This story begins in the New Republic, circa 21 ABY (as formally established in the New Republic Calendar). While the death of Emperor Palpatine and the destruction of the Second Death Star have led to a formal reinstatement of the Republic senate and the repealing of the Emergency Powers Act, peace is never quite so simple. Many Imperial officers were arrested or turned themselves in, with the Trials of Alsakan being a cultural turning point for the Galaxy… and not entirely for the better. Many Imperial Admirals, Generals, and Stormtroopers were still MIA or governing over systems in the Outer and Mid-Rim. The Rebel Alliance was largely dissolved with the death of the Emperor and the formation of a new Senate, leaving no standing army to deal with the remaining Imperial threat.

That is, until Gallius Rex proposed a solution.

The former Moff proposed a reinstatement of the Imperial Navy with a largely reduced budget, using the same political language that formed the Grand Army of the Republic during the Clone Wars. Instead of placing military powers directly into the hands of a single Chancellor, the Senate would form a subcommittee to manage its affairs. Once all of the Imperial war criminals with active warrants were brought in to answer for their crimes, the Grand Army would be dissolved through a Senate vote.

In the meantime, another force was created through Senate vote that would focus on handling smaller galactic crimes where overwhelming military force would be inappropriate or unwelcome. The New Republic Rangers are composed primarily of former rebels with “clean records” compared to their insurgent counterparts. They serve in the fringes of space in designated space stations and localized outposts, meant to serve as aides to local law enforcement as needed.

And so, 10 years after the Trials of Alsakan, the First Order is down half its fleet due to catastrophic engagements with the Imperial Remnants and excessive micromanagement by the Senate Subcommittee on Military Affairs (SSMA). Grand Admiral Gallius Rex has garnered significant support as a political figure, even managing to maneuver his way into a Senate seat and garnering a secure voting block of “liberated” systems. A recent bill to appease the Core Worlds and Mid-Rim has begun the process of formally disbanding the First Order despite Senator Rex's opposition. New Republic Rangers, while marginally effective at keeping mercenaries and criminal enterprises at bay, have struggled with the manpower and red-tape needed to target their Most Wanted prospects.

At the fringes, systems are exploited by either Remnant warlords or gangsters from the Crimson Dawn or Hutt Cartel. Others attempt to live solitary lives, in self-imposed exile or out of fear of the rest of the galaxy. The tensions of the Empire linger even after the death of its leader. Fear runs rampant, and fear is where darkness festers.

Factions

Factions

The Jedi Order is a shadow of it's former self, but has been rebuilding itself slowly over time. The speed at which force users are trained has escalated, and many who pass the trials are permitted to travel the galaxy as they wish. The lack of oversight and decentralized nature of this new order have raised some concerns, facilitating the Senate's approval to re-establish the Jedi Investigation Corps to ensure the galaxy never has to suffer the destruction of another Sith power struggle. Otherwise, many trained Jedi have gone on to serve the galaxy as healers, peacekeepers, or spiritual guides. Some have earned the privilege of making their own lightsabers, so long as they register with the Galactic Republic.

The First Order is the recently disbanded Army of the Galactic Republic. Old Star Destroyers and some Clone Wars era capital ships ditched the stark gray in favor of deep crimson accents while waging war against the Imperial Remnant. Not all were swayed by the rebrand, as ground troops of the First Order bore re-designed red Stormtrooper armor. However, there are a number of public statements from officers and recruits to the First Order that attempt to classify this military service as penance for the crimes of the Imperial armed forces under Palpatine. Other career soldiers were simply trying to serve their time to secure decent pensions in the hopes of retirement. Many other young hopefuls had joined their ranks as well in recent years. The disbanding process has been slow going, with many First Order capital ships still pending their formal decommission orders.

The skill of the New Republic Rangers is vast, but typically highly specialized. They primarily serve in fringe worlds and are focused on the preservation of peace and security for common folk, with space stations around the mid and outer rim. Rangers defer to local law enforcement (where there is any) with the exception of highly sensitive or dangerous crimes, and are particularly focused on dealing with criminal cartels and the trafficking of people.

Not all Admirals and Generals of the Empire have chosen to answer for their war crimes, and attempt even decades later to hold on to what power they could. These are the Imperial Remnant, isolated cells of power-seeking fascists yearning for a galaxy that was great only to the rich and powerful. Many of their leaders still hold dominion over fringe systems in the mid and outer rim. Others remain hiding on remote, secret bases. Regardless, their presence and their threat to the liberty of all are an existential threat to people galaxy wide. Rumors abound of secret orders and contingencies that the Imperial Remnant are carrying out in secret, and there are even rumors of Clone or Droid armies being constructed in secret for an inevitable full-scale invasion of the New Republic. The reality people know is simple: some men will not face their end with dignity, and will fight until the very last breath… to the detriment of a number of systems and all who live in them.

The Corporate Sector Authority is the closest thing many Mid and Outer Rim worlds have to a functional police force. The Corporate Sector Authority is funded by a majority of the top 500 galactic conglomerates to provide strict rules and law enforcement. They operate predominantly within many industrial star systems as Aerospace Traffic Control and Customs officers, with many Espos (Corporate Security Police) serving as security for corporate cities and facilities.

The longest running criminal organization in Galactic History, the Hutt Cartel are predominantly spice dealers. They have a dedicated, neutral sector of space in the systems around Nal Hutta, and several Hutts act as local crime lords in the Outer Rim. The Hutt Cartel is decentralized, in the sense that the whims of the Hutts are fickle and one Hutt’s champion is another Hutt’s public enemy. However, they largely act with a sort of criminal code of ethics, and are well-regarded as paying out for contracts. They pay well for bounties, and are known to operate a thriving black market open for Bounty Hunters, smugglers, and less savory characters.

The Crimson Dawn is a powerful crime syndicate that rivals the Hutt Cartel. While the Hutts are known for bribing local officials and operating in the open in the outer rim, the Crimson Dawn is brutal and dangerous to all who encounter them. The Crimson Dawn has a number of individualized criminal enterprises that report directly to them, most of which are localized pirate bands. They have been known to overwhelm and occupy vulnerable systems, but always manage to clear out by the time major powers and authorities catch wind of their activities.

The Bounty Hunter’s Guild is a loose collective of trackers and mercenaries united in a common goal: making credits hunting people down. Most official contracts are posted to the Holonet, and come in two forms. Closed Bounties require meetings with the client beforehand to get full debriefs and can only be claimed by a single hunter or a small collective of hunters at a time, while Open Bounties are akin to wanted posters in the Galaxy. All bounties will specify whether they want the target(s) brought in Dead or Alive, with a deduction in the reward if these specifications are not met. The Republic is a bit more restrictive on the hunting of bounties within their territories than the Hutt Cartel or Remnant tends to be, but they tend to pay much more for imperials who have evaded warrants than any other bounty on the market.

Reign of the Usurper

^{a barge on the Bramble Weave}

“How is it that the most prosperous seed of our father’s garden is brought low by such calm waters?”

Khalil Tide’s words cut through the calm as the blazing sun beat down on the necks and backs of the small crew. The barge was rather large for a vessel designed solely to travel between the capital and the Bay of Kings, and was remarkably more pleasant of a ride than the Galleon’s trip around the peninsula. Nonetheless, Imran Ganasen clung to the wooden railing with the white-knuckled grip common among cabin boys and tourists. His skin had grown a few shaders more pallid as he breathed through his nose, attempting to keep back the tides of nausea that threatened to escape from his lips. Instead, the only thing that flowed from his mouth were short, sharp words.

”Mine, not yours.”

“Pardon?”

”My father, bastard. The summons were for my father’s children. Your name was notably absent, Tide.”

“Ah… yes, of course.” Silence hung in the air like a heavy cloak, leaving the two men in silence as they continued to lean against the railing. The sound of the oars cutting through the water filled the gap their words once filled, intermixed with the creaking of wood that caused Imran to flinch slightly. Khalil turned his face away from Imran, concealing his gritted teeth from his half-brother. He glanced towards the hatch leading below deck, concealing his grimace. “I can fetch the tack, unless the taste would be undeserving of your legitimate pallet.”

Silence graced the space between them once more as Imran clung to the railing, mulling over the offer. A peaceful offering from his half-kin after such an insult felt, most assuredly, like some sort of trap. Unfortunately, he had no room to decline even false generosity. ”I beg of you, any balm will suffice.”

The bow Khalil offered in response lacked sincerity, but neither cared for authenticity in that regard. The bastard took his leave, opening up the hatch below deck and stepping down into its innards while Imran craved some stability of his stomach.

”It would be wise to show Khalil some civility.” Zhara’s voice was sharp, cutting through Imran’s focus with precision. She stepped away from her position a couple yards aft of his post. She offered a nod to a taller sailor, who took over barking orders to the crew.

Imran shook his head, choking down rising bile to offer a biting response. ”I don’t want him to think of me as kin, sister, lest he believe that he shares in our birthright.” His tone lacked the same sharpness he offered Khalil, a soft sincerity dressing his disdain.

Zhara raised an eyebrow at Imran’s bluntness, pursing her lips as she parsed through his reasoning. When she responded, there was a heat behind her words. Her eyes instinctively rose towards the approaching capital, spires of stone and wood signaling they were hastily approaching their destination. ”He does not share in our name, but he does share in our cause.” She took a step closer to Imran, leaning against the same railing to get within her brother’s eyeline. ”Would you prefer House Kenra or House Cantlowe hold the King’s ear in matters of coin, or the man who shares in half our blood?” She leaned in closer, her last words hushed. ”Which option would ensure you remain sated?”

A few loud creaks from the stairs near the hatch forewarned of Khalil’s return. Zhara shot her brother a sharp look, and Imran shrunk a little from her gaze. When Khalil emerged, he pretended not to notice the shift in the air. Delicately folded in a white cloth were a handful of stale, salty crackers. The bastard approached the legitimate, presenting them with the care expected of his station. “Take a seat and watch the horizon, my lord. We are nearly there.”

Imran nodded slowly, taking a few shaky steps to a bench in the center of the ship. He settled down, his eyes fixed plainly ahead as he forced down the bland food. His words were delivered with a smallness that was becoming for a second son. ”You have my thanks, Khalil.”

Khalil offered a curt nod, turning his attention to the bow of the boat. He walked several paces away, his dignified expression slacking as he no longer faced his tormentor. The capital was a remarkable sight, even for someone who spent more time there in recent years than at home.

”It would serve you well to be kinder too. And perhaps a touch less nosy.” Zhara sidled up next to Khalil, her eyes only briefly catching his startled expression. While her half-brother opened his mouth to offer a rehearsed defense, Zhara simply shook her head. ”Only the bottom step is loose. You stepped it thrice to ensure he would hear you.”

Khalil disguised his grimace with a tight smile, his expression otherwise collected. He took a sharp intake of breath, before he whispered out a response. “I appreciate your pity, Zhara. Let us just hope your mother doesn’t hear of it.” The two shared a brief glance, and then a knowing smile. The Duchess held a thinly-disguised hatred for her husband’s child, and a deeper disdain for her daughter’s tolerance of him. So, the two let the unspoken meaning settle as they watched the ever-approaching docks. Khalil shook his head softly, nodding back towards the hatch. “Best you freshen up, my lady. The carriages will certainly be waiting for you and Imran. I’ll settle things with the Corsair.”

Zhara let out a small sigh, taking in one last view of the approaching capital, before lightly patting her half-brother on the shoulder. ”Make sure he bathes before he comes near the castle, lest they turn you away at the door.”

^{interactions ....|.... none ............... mentions ....|.... Houses Cantelowe and Kenra, Duke Zaid, Duchess Nadira ............... collabs ....|.... none}

Web's Workshop

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....

S T A R W A R S

Shadows of the New Republic

“This Senate has, rightfully, abolished the practice of forced labor in New Republic prison facilities. This then raises a question: are we to send or execute every boot that served the Empire, including myself? There is a simple option, one that provides purpose to those of us misled by Palpatine and war criminals like Tarkin and Yularen while providing much needed protection to those still suffering under the rule of disparate warlords who have refused to answer for their crimes: a temporary reinstating of the of the Grand Army of the Republic.

For many of us, the Imperial Navy served as a means of mobility and a way to learn new trades. It provided structure and stability, and many of us joined believing we could serve our fellow man. But we were beaten into subservience and threatened by the Imperial Security Bureau into compliance. The Imperial Navy under the direction of Tarkin was more focused on instilling fear in every system than it was serving its stated purpose. We no longer have an ISB, nor a Tarkin, nor an Emperor. We can do what we originally enlisted to do: bring some semblance of peace, not through fear and submission... but through justice.

Once we bring down every Warlord, every former admiral and general who has an active warrant, I will be back here before you all again to ask you to disband the Grand Army. For we will have a First Order, and an only order: to drag these monsters from their dens and before our tribunals, so that they may face the will of the people!”

Grand Admiral Gallius Rex, in an address to the New Republic Senate

Decades after the destruction of the second Death Star, the galaxy has entered a time of relative peace and stagnation. The Imperial Remnant remains a grave threat in the Outer Rim, with various Star Destroyers and their admirals acting as roving warlords. The Republic has chosen to deny further conflict, with renewed threats of separation from worlds in the mid rim forcing the reformed Senate's hand in disbanding most aspects of the Republic military in recent years. A fledgling Jedi Order has been re-established on Yavin IV, though many Jedi continue to pursue their own interests in the galaxy at large. Smugglers and Mercenaries, who would have been criminals in the days of the Empire and the Old Republic, have become lifelines for those in need. The only military personnel in service are Republic Rangers, highly trained soldier-pilots who patrol popular space lanes.

Of course... this tentative peace was never bound to last. Republic Intelligence believes that the fractured Imperial Remnant are beginning to rally behind a new banner. Rumors circulate of rogue force users with no connection to the Jedi Order. Crime families exploit weak and vulnerable systems while waging open war against each other. Rumors have even circulated that new Star Destroyers have emerged for the first time in decades... bearing the colors and and insignia of the Republic.

In the midst of it all, an aspiring Jedi and a Scrapper cross paths in the Outer Rim. The Jedi is searching for an old acquaintance, a fellow student of the Order. He enlists help in completing his trial, unaware of the dangers they are about to uncover.

State of the Galaxy

This story begins in the New Republic, circa 21 ABY (as formally established in the New Republic Calendar). While the death of Emperor Palpatine and the destruction of the Second Death Star have led to a formal reinstatement of the Republic senate and the repealing of the Emergency Powers Act, peace is never quite so simple. Many Imperial officers were arrested or turned themselves in, with the Trials of Alsakan being a cultural turning point for the Galaxy… and not entirely for the better. Many Imperial Admirals, Generals, and Stormtroopers were still MIA or governing over systems in the Outer and Mid-Rim. The Rebel Alliance was largely dissolved with the death of the Emperor and the formation of a new Senate, leaving no standing army to deal with the remaining Imperial threat.

That is, until Gallius Rex proposed a solution.

The former Moff proposed a reinstatement of the Imperial Navy with a largely reduced budget, using the same political language that formed the Grand Army of the Republic during the Clone Wars. Instead of placing military powers directly into the hands of a single Chancellor, the Senate would form a subcommittee to manage its affairs. Once all of the Imperial war criminals with active warrants were brought in to answer for their crimes, the Grand Army would be dissolved through a Senate vote.

In the meantime, another force was created through Senate vote that would focus on handling smaller galactic crimes where overwhelming military force would be inappropriate or unwelcome. The New Republic Rangers are composed primarily of former rebels with “clean records” compared to their insurgent counterparts. They serve in the fringes of space in designated space stations and localized outposts, meant to serve as aides to local law enforcement as needed.

And so, 10 years after the Trials of Alsakan, the First Order is down half its fleet due to catastrophic engagements with the Imperial Remnants and excessive micromanagement by the Senate Subcommittee on Military Affairs (SSMA). Grand Admiral Gallius Rex has garnered significant support as a political figure, even managing to maneuver his way into a Senate seat and garnering a secure voting block of “liberated” systems. A recent bill to appease the Core Worlds and Mid-Rim has begun the process of formally disbanding the First Order despite Senator Rex's opposition. New Republic Rangers, while marginally effective at keeping mercenaries and criminal enterprises at bay, have struggled with the manpower and red-tape needed to target their Most Wanted prospects.

At the fringes, systems are exploited by either Remnant warlords or gangsters from the Crimson Dawn or Hutt Cartel. Others attempt to live solitary lives, in self-imposed exile or out of fear of the rest of the galaxy. The tensions of the Empire linger even after the death of its leader. Fear runs rampant, and fear is where darkness festers.

Factions

Factions

The Jedi Order is a shadow of it's former self, but has been rebuilding itself slowly over time. The speed at which force users are trained has escalated, and many who pass the trials are permitted to travel the galaxy as they wish. The lack of oversight and decentralized nature of this new order have raised some concerns, facilitating the Senate's approval to re-establish the Jedi Investigation Corps to ensure the galaxy never has to suffer the destruction of another Sith power struggle. Otherwise, many trained Jedi have gone on to serve the galaxy as healers, peacekeepers, or spiritual guides. Some have earned the privilege of making their own lightsabers, so long as they register with the Galactic Republic.

The First Order is the recently disbanded Army of the Galactic Republic. Old Star Destroyers and some Clone Wars era capital ships ditched the stark gray in favor of deep crimson accents while waging war against the Imperial Remnant. Not all were swayed by the rebrand, as ground troops of the First Order bore re-designed red Stormtrooper armor. However, there are a number of public statements from officers and recruits to the First Order that attempt to classify this military service as penance for the crimes of the Imperial armed forces under Palpatine. Other career soldiers were simply trying to serve their time to secure decent pensions in the hopes of retirement. Many other young hopefuls had joined their ranks as well in recent years. The disbanding process has been slow going, with many First Order capital ships still pending their formal decommission orders.

The skill of the New Republic Rangers is vast, but typically highly specialized. They primarily serve in fringe worlds and are focused on the preservation of peace and security for common folk, with space stations around the mid and outer rim. Rangers defer to local law enforcement (where there is any) with the exception of highly sensitive or dangerous crimes, and are particularly focused on dealing with criminal cartels and the trafficking of people.

Not all Admirals and Generals of the Empire have chosen to answer for their war crimes, and attempt even decades later to hold on to what power they could. These are the Imperial Remnant, isolated cells of power-seeking fascists yearning for a galaxy that was great only to the rich and powerful. Many of their leaders still hold dominion over fringe systems in the mid and outer rim. Others remain hiding on remote, secret bases. Regardless, their presence and their threat to the liberty of all are an existential threat to people galaxy wide. Rumors abound of secret orders and contingencies that the Imperial Remnant are carrying out in secret, and there are even rumors of Clone or Droid armies being constructed in secret for an inevitable full-scale invasion of the New Republic. The reality people know is simple: some men will not face their end with dignity, and will fight until the very last breath… to the detriment of a number of systems and all who live in them.

The Corporate Sector Authority is the closest thing many Mid and Outer Rim worlds have to a functional police force. The Corporate Sector Authority is funded by a majority of the top 500 galactic conglomerates to provide strict rules and law enforcement. They operate predominantly within many industrial star systems as Aerospace Traffic Control and Customs officers, with many Espos (Corporate Security Police) serving as security for corporate cities and facilities.

The Bounty Hunter’s Guild is a loose collective of trackers and mercenaries united in a common goal: making credits doing work no one else wants to. Most official contracts are posted to the Holonet, and come in two forms. Closed Bounties require meetings with the client beforehand to get full debriefs and can only be claimed by a single hunter or a small collective of hunters at a time, while Open Bounties are akin to wanted posters in the Galaxy. All bounties will specify whether they want the target(s) brought in Dead or Alive, with a deduction in the reward if these specifications are not met.

The longest running criminal organization in Galactic History, the Hutt Cartel are predominantly spice dealers. They have a dedicated, neutral sector of space in the systems around Nal Hutta, and several Hutts act as local crime lords in the Outer Rim. The Hutt Cartel is decentralized, in the sense that the whims of the Hutts are fickle and one Hutt’s champion is another Hutt’s public enemy. However, they largely act with a sort of criminal code of ethics, and are well-regarded as paying out for contracts. They pay well for bounties, and are known to operate a thriving black market open for Bounty Hunters, smugglers, and less savory characters.

The Crimson Dawn is a powerful crime syndicate that rivals the Hutt Cartel. While the Hutts are known for bribing local officials and operating in the open in the outer rim, the Crimson Dawn is brutal and dangerous to all who encounter them. The Crimson Dawn has a number of individualized criminal enterprises that report directly to them, most of which are localized pirate bands. They have been known to overwhelm and occupy vulnerable systems, but always manage to clear out by the time major powers and authorities catch wind of their activities.

The Bounty Hunter’s Guild is a loose collective of trackers and mercenaries united in a common goal: making credits hunting people down. Most official contracts are posted to the Holonet, and come in two forms. Closed Bounties require meetings with the client beforehand to get full debriefs and can only be claimed by a single hunter or a small collective of hunters at a time, while Open Bounties are akin to wanted posters in the Galaxy. All bounties will specify whether they want the target(s) brought in Dead or Alive, with a deduction in the reward if these specifications are not met. The Republic is a bit more restrictive on the hunting of bounties within their territories than the Hutt Cartel or Remnant tends to be, but they tend to pay much more for imperials who have evaded warrants than any other bounty on the market.

Web's Workshop

A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....

S T A R W A R S

Shattered Republic

Decades after the destruction of the second Death Star, the galaxy has entered a time of relative peace and stagnation. The Imperial Remnant remains a grave threat in the Outer Rim, with various Star Destroyers and their admirals acting as roving warlords. The Republic has chosen to deny further conflict, with renewed threats of separation from worlds in the mid rim forcing the reformed Senate's hand in disbanding most aspects of the Republic military in recent years. A fledgling Jedi Order has been re-established on Yavin IV, though many Jedi continue to pursue their own interests in the galaxy at large. Smugglers and Mercenaries, who would have been criminals in the days of the Empire and the Old Republic, have become lifelines for those in need. The only military personnel in service are Republic Rangers, highly trained soldier-pilots who patrol popular space lanes.

Of course... this tentative peace was never bound to last. Republic Intelligence believes that the fractured Imperial Remnant are beginning to rally behind a new banner. Rumors circulate of rogue force users with no connection to the Jedi Order. Crime families exploit weak and vulnerable systems while waging open war against each other. Rumors have even circulated that new Star Destroyers have emerged for the first time in decades... bearing the colors and and insignia of the Republic.

In the midst of it all, messages from Rothana spread across the galaxy. The messages are unclear, disorganized. They beg for aid. Whether it is through altruism or a desire for answers, some brave individuals answer the call.

It is a shame they fell for a trap.

Old

More than 3,000 years before the rise of the Galactic Empire, the Old Republic was brought low by their greatest threat yet: a Sith Empire. The Great Galactic War has been wearing down both sides for nearly a decade with little progress made in either end. On the capital world of Coruscant, a daring frontal assault on the republic by Darth Malgus threatens to cripple both the Jedi Order and the meager Army of the Republic in one fell swoop. With the space above Coruscant blockaded by the emergence of the Sith fleet and a mass bombing campaign on the surface, wayward heroes begin to converge into the lower levels of Coruscant to find a pilot crazy enough to escape with "a high priority" target that could save the Republic from accepting total defeat.

Web's Workshop

Kaz Bana

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Kaz Bana

.................................................... __________________________________________ J E D I P A D A W A N ________________________________________________________ 20 | male | pansexual Specialization | Investigator __________________________________________ ▹ species | nautolan ▹ skin color | green ▹ eye color | black ▹ height | 5' 10" ▹ build | athletic ▹ homeworld | planet ▹ force sensitivity | yes __________________________________________

. A B I L I T I E S force sense .|. force telekinesis .|. force agility .|. lightsaber training .|. mind trick .|. force cloak .|. tutaminis .|. force empathy.|. language comprehension .|. water breathing .|. amphibious anatomy .|. novice piloting .|. forensics training .|. medical training W E A K N E S S E S A N D L I M I T A T I O N S Repairs not included - While Kaz has learned to use basic electronics and datapads, he lacks a deeper understanding of systems and how to fix them when they break. If it doesn't work the first time, he's out of luck. If only the Order had offered some basic repair courses. Land, Sea, and not Air - Kaz hates flying. He was made for being on land or in the water. He has been forced to undergo basic training for piloting, but most of that has been through ground simulations and land speeders. Untested - Kaz has little combat experience, outside training and spars with lightsabers at the temple. He has not seen the harshness of the galaxy up close, and any experience he has outside his homeworld and the temple has been at the side of his master. E Q U I P M E N T Double-Bladed Lightsaber - The weapon of a Jedi, Kaz's double-bladed yellow saber is a testament to nearly a decade of training and dedication. It is finely crafted and well-maintained, with little sign of wear and tear. Scouting Equipment - Kaz carries monoculars, rappelling cables, and other basic field supplies necessary to observe and report from afar. Medpac - Kaz keeps a well-stocked emergency medical kit strapped to his belt. It has everything from field surgical supplies to kolto injections. 0B-4T Observation Droid - Affectionately referred to as "Obee," OB-4T is a repurposed observation probe droid. It is equipped with a built in blaster to act as a training remote, and has an upgraded sensor array package to aid in forensic analysis. __________________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y Calm | Caring | Impulsive | Untrusting H I S T O R Y Raised on his homeworld of Glee Anselm, Kaz knew little of the suffering of the Empire. The Empire had little use for an ocean planet of limited resources, and even littler from their amphibious peoples. Of course, heavy taxes and even harsher travel policies left the Nautolans isolated from the rest of the galaxy. When the Empire began to fall after the destruction of the second death star, daily life continued to move on. The Imperial checkpoints on the surface and the Star Destroyers in the atmosphere left, and Kaz continued to grow and play. He was kept away from any Imperial inspections for as long as possible, for reasons he never quite understood. When Kaz was ten, his future changed for the better. A Kel Dor in tattered robes had arrived by shuttle, and managed to ask after the boy and his parents by name. He revealed himself to be Ro Nuul, and a Jedi seeking to take the boy into his care. He spoke of the old Jedi ways, of the great heroes of old wars and new, and of a future where force sensitives could live without fear once again. Master Nuul offered Kaz a chance to see the stars, to develop his senses, and to restart "the old ways" once again. The boy, of course, accepted. For the past ten years, Kaz Bana has trained diligently under Ro Nuul's guidance. He has stood by and watched the Jedi Order slowly pick up the pieces and begin to establish itself again on Yavin IV. Force sensitives of all walks of life have come and gone, seeking an understanding and basic control over their nascent powers. Many have chosen to return home, to help their people recover from the oppression of the Empire. Some have stayed, and continued to train and develop their skills. Among their ranks is Kaz, who has continued to study and train under the tutelage of Master Nuul. His master's meticulous training and adherence to "tradition" has grown a bit tiring for Kaz, but has also proven to shape him into a fine padawan. Kaz, eager to prove himself and to join his Master as an equal in the newly formed Investigation Corps, has finally been granted permission to undertake trials of his own. In order to prove his abilities, he has been tasked with investigating the rumor that Rothana Heavy Engineering has begun accepting major contracts from independent buyers in violation of Republic embargoes. So, on his own for once, Kaz makes out for Rothana through neutral space. Little does he know, the sins of the master will weigh down on the student. __________________________________________________________________________________ hexcode . | . #38ba5b ........ ........ creator . | . Webboysurf

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. A B I L I T I E S Placeholder - description. Placeholder - description. Placeholder - description. S T R E N G T H S Placeholder - description. Placeholder - description. Placeholder - description. W E A K N E S S E S A N D L I M I T A T I O N S Placeholder - description. Placeholder - description. Placeholder - description. __________________________________________________________________________________ P E R S O N A L I T Y Trait | Trait | Trait | Trait H I S T O R Y Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit, sed do eiusmod tempor incididunt ut labore et dolore magna aliqua. Ut enim ad minim veniam, quis nostrud exercitation ullamco laboris nisi ut aliquip ex ea commodo consequat. Duis aute irure dolor in reprehenderit in voluptate velit esse cillum dolore eu fugiat nulla pariatur. Excepteur sint occaecat cupidatat non proident, sunt in culpa qui officia deserunt mollit anim id est laborum. __________________________________________________________________________________ hexcode . | . #00aeef ........ ........ creator . | . Webboysurf