Luke Skywalker; Jedi Master (Male Human) Mara Jade Skywalker; Jedi Mistress (Female Human) Ben Skywalker; Jedi Knight (Male Human) Aryss Helranth; Dark Jedi (Male ??) Han Solo; retired smuggler (male Human) Leia Organa Solo; retired politician (Female Human) Jaina Solo; Jedi Mistress (Female Human) Kyp Durron; Jedi Master (Male Human) Darius D'khar; Jedi Knight (Male Mandalorian) Mikan Delwynna; Jedi Apprentice (Male Human) Katie Erayla; Jedi Knight (Female Human) Tyrael Denigan; Former Jedi (Male Human) Ssyrr'a; Personal Assistent (?? ??) Jollo Benar; Jedi Knight (Male Ithorian) Kiana Triye; Jedi Knight (Female Zabrak) Laryll Lalain; Jedi Knight (Female Devaronian) Lord Hystar; Emperor (Male Iridorian) King Frassh'ter'mil; High King (Male Lithoorian) Faest La'rek; Supreme Commander (Male Bothan)
Within the Core sat the planet of Coruscant. Before the Yuuzhan Vong war, there was a universal understanding that whoever assumed control of Coruscant also controlled the Galaxy. For this reason, the planet has been fought for over millennia. In prehistoric times, it was the Taung fighting the Battalions of Zhel for this once-beautiful planet. During the Galactic Civil War, Coruscant was always a bitterly contested point. Coruscant had endured all these hardships. Until the Yuuzhan Vong arrived. The invading alien race conquered the planet, massive dovin basals shifting its orbit closer to sun, resulting in a dramatic increase of temperature and moisture. Eventually, the surface was overgrown by yorik coral. Renamed Yuuzhan’Tar, after the holy planet of the Yuuzhan Vong, it was also the staging ground of the last battle against the Yuuzhan Vong, a battle which the Galactic Federation of Free Alliances won. A wedge fighter wended its way through the asteroid field, created when the Vong destroyed the planet’s largest moon, that whirled in a seventeen-degree angle around Coruscant’s ecliptic. The fighter banked, descending to the planet’s surface, the pilot oblivious to the following XJ3 X-Wing. Rattling as it pierced through the planet’s atmosphere, the unknown craft soared above the ravaged yorik coral, black with ash, indicating that a blazing fire had once ravaged this world. Some areas were bare, revealing the massive permacrete buildings that had been concealed underneath the thick layer of coral. As he swooped lower, a tower loomed in his viewport. The pilot manoeuvred the fighter closer and noticed that the tower was surrounded by the ruins of four smaller spires. This is where my master needs me to go. The old Jedi Temple, the pilot mused. He turned the fighter sharply, its engines shrieking in protest. Easily, he landed his fighter in what might have once been a hangar bay. Setting the ship down in the deserted space, he flipped a switch, the canopy hissing open. He struggled out of the crashwebbing. The thrumming of machines and bleeping of systems coming back online surrounded him. The pilot seemed to be a warrior. He wore dark armor, accompanied with blood-red tints, and a skirt that flowed to his knees. A large mantle dragged across the floor with each step. As he walked, the warrior-pilot pulled out a holoprojector from a concealed pocket. A three - dimensional blueprint appeared. A perfect image, only flawed by diagonal interference that developed every couple of seconds. Guided by the hologram, he marched forward confidently, the dim, flickering lights illuminating his way. His journey through the old Temple brought him to the room that was once the Archives. Down the center of the room was a walkway, lined with old, malfunctioning computer terminals. Emitting a faded blue light, stacks of holoprojectors were piled against the permacrete walls on both sides of the room. Many others had gone missing at the start of the Jedi Purges, or had been destroyed by Emperor Palpatine. The Jedi of the Galactic Republic had also used the Archives to store Sith Holocrons. Palpatine had taken many of those, but had purposely left some behind. Though warrior wasn't sure why, but he was certain that his master would find out. He noticed a small stand where a bunch of Sith holocrons were stashed; normally the stand was secured by a energy field, of course the shield was absent after the power loss. He took the rightmost holocron, activating it to make sure it was the right one, and the holo-projector that was the blueprint of the temple now assembled to become a hooded person. “I have found the Holocron you desire, Master,” the pilot said, the bass of his voice amplified by his helmet. “You have done well, Helranth. The Emperor was a fool to abandon the wisdom of Darth Traya.” A gentle yet haunting voice replied. “Bring the Holocron to me.” “What about the other Holocrons?” Helranth asked. “Destroy them…” the image flickered off and abruptly the remaining Holocrons began to hum and chant a weird language - Sith language. “My loyalty is only to my Master,” Helranth told the holocrons as he smashed them on the ground, pulverizing each tetrahedron-shaped object underneath his feet. The essence of many Sith Lords perished by his acts, but they were not needed. He stood there; bathing in the dark side energy that resonated from the cracked holocrons. Suddenly, he felt an invading force. A ray of light pierced the darkness, like a vibrodagger stabbing through flesh. He hurried back to his ship. He was not alone. The X-Wing that pursued the wedge fighter had landed, its red-haired human pilot outside and examining the Sith fighter. He sensed the pilot of the ship closing in. As a strange mix of fear and anticipation overwhelmed him, he unclipped his lightsaber and clutched it in his hand. Many Jedi Knights had been assigned to catch the Dark Jedi. Until now, everyone had failed. But he had found his foe now, and he would not return to the temple unless he triumphed. He took one more glance at the Dark Jedi’s fighter, painted black with red markings. He focused his attention back to the entrance and found himself staring face-to-face with the emotionless helmet the Dark Jedi wore. “Helranth,” the Jedi called, gripping the hilt of his saber. “Under the rule of the Jedi Council, I have come to bring you back to the light, or forever end your terror.” Obviously amused by the Jedi’s statement, Helranth laughed, the sound distorted by the helmet. If Helranth was impressed, he didn’t show it. “You are mistaken, Jedi,” he spat. “The Dark Side is my light.” He revealed his lightsaber, hidden underneath his mantle. His hilt seemed more like a short staff, it was longer than the most standard sabers, almost double as long. The Jedi ignited his own saber, which glowed a silver light. Helranth answered by activating his, bringing the distinctive crimson blade to life. He brought the hilt to his hips, pointing the blade backwards, and the Jedi approached.
A luminescent gem rested on the backdrop of stars, radiating white with heat. This was planet Denon, accompanied by nothing but a cold moon and contrasted by a bright nebula which blossomed beautifully behind it. This planet was much like the planet Coruscant had been-, before it had become one of the many victims in a war that dominated the galaxy for over five years. It served as the perfect icon for a war that changed everything, took its toll on many and had cost the lives of billions. Once, the brightest centre of the universe; now, a terraformed shadow of its former magnificence. Denon was a new start. Its resemblance to Coruscant was probably the main reason why it now served as the seat of the former New Republic, which was now known as the Galactic Alliance. Mile-high towers thrust from the planet’s surface, some breaching the hemisphere. Flocks of speeders scurried between the buildings. This ostensibly never-ending stream of traffic showed the planet’s status as a crowded city inhabited by many sentient beings from all sort of exotic places. Machines maintained the planet; droids were programmed to solve every type of problem, such as the traffic jams which occurred on a daily basis and the constant structure repaires that the metropolis required. Such a large population could not be sustained by the planet alone. Denon would have been too cold for most forms of life, but large generators had been installed in ancient times, emitting the heat that allowed Denon and its population to flourish. Between the buildings stood a large dome, in the exact center of the main city of Denon. This was the Senatorial Estate. Here, senators expressed their concerns, and provisions for new laws were processed. And of-course a place where the delegates could bicker after a rough night at home Senators from many systems were gathered in the estate’s main chamber, where a fierce debate was ongoing, concerning the latest galactic threat: Terrorism. ”Many systems have fallen prey to radical behaviour. When will the Galactic Alliance take action?” These words, spoken by a Sullustan senator, echoed through the domed room. The question caused commotion. Leaving their stationary position near the wall, many of the pods floated forward, carrying a variety of shouting delegates. Some senators supported the Sullastan, and others were adamant in their faith in the Alliance. Hundreds of pods were in the senatorial chamber and could be reached by their corresponding corridors. It made the building like a maze and hardly anyone could reach their destination without following any of the guidance signs. “Silence!" The Chief of State ordered as the two conflicting parties caused chaos. Instantly, the backbiting delegates calmed down. Even though she was only recently elected, the woman had gained a lot of respect. “Thank you…” the Chief of State said, releasing a sigh of relief. She wore a crimson dress, decorated with a feathered collar and small fortune in little jewels sewn onto the fabric. The gown exhibited an extravagant amount of wealth. Her face showed no signs of wrinkles. Dark mascara flattered her brown eyes; a dark sheen of color coated her lips. Her blond hair was held back, bound in a mesh net picked with rubies. Carrying with it the military advisor of the Galactic Alliance, Hal Trenor, and Jedi Master Luke Skywalker, a pod hovered forward. "The Galactic Alliance is investigating this matter,” Trenor began, his eyes pointed at the Chief of State. ”You need not explain yourself directly to me, honourable advisor, but to them.” She motioned her arm, referring to the participants of this debate. ”Of course, Madame President,” Trenor corrected himself, “But is it wrong for me to admire the sparkle in your breathtaking eyes?” The comment drew laughter from many, loudest of all the barking of the Wookiees. The Chief of State had a stare that could make even the toughest, most wicked bounty hunter shiver. "A joke?” she asked, her tone lashing like a whip. “This is a serious debate, and I advise that you to leave your witty comments for friends. I do not tolerate humour in my halls, Advisor Hal Trenor.” Her voice was disgusted as she pronounced his name. ”My apologies, milady.” A small grin cracked on his face, as Trenor turned to address the delegates. Hal Trenor was always after a stand off with the chief of state, the two shared a history together. She had been his fiancée, but after he became a military advisor for the Alliance, she used him as leverage for a higher goal, a goal she had now achieved.