Star Wars Star Wars: After the Awakening

Star Wars: After the Awakening

Han Solo is dead.

Words which would have reverberated across the galaxy had the Hosnian system not also been destroyed. The Senate annihilated, the Chancellor dead, and the entire First Fleet of the New Republic Defence Force destroyed.

Villecham, Trustant A'Kla, Triebakk, Ponc Gavrisom, and more besides, Senators who represented the heart of democracy, number among the Senate dead.

The Viscount, the Guardian, the Harbinger, the Yald, the Rebel Dream, and other ships with legacies running from before the Battle of Endor, more than just the First Fleet, the great flagships of the New Republic, lost.

Nine years ago the New Jedi Order was destroyed at the hands of Kylo Ren. Nine years ago the surviving Jedi were ordered to cease training and go into hiding until Luke Skywalker discovered the source of imbalance within the Order.

Nine years ago the Jedi Order lost its heart.

For, after Gantoris, after Desann, after Brakiss, after Dolph, after nearly losing Kyp, Corran, and Jaina to the dark, the fall of Ben Solo was the straw which broke Luke Skywalker. His wife Mara could not persuade him otherwise, Luke even refusing to train his own son Ben. With Han returning to his smuggler ways, without Kylo, with Jacen off on his sojourns and with Jaina as unofficial liaison between the known and unknown, there was simply not enough of the Skywalker-Solo family tree to convince Luke to change his mind, even a family buoyed by the return of Chewbacca, who had been caught up in the refugee trap that occurred during the Yuuzhan Vong War. The Jedi Council could not agree amongst themselves whether to continue on, and secluded the children of the Order, themselves going into hiding to avoid the unknown threat which rose to deplete their number further; the Knights of Ren.

But now, Leia Organa knows that they need the Jedi. With Cal Omas returning from retirement to desperately weave back together the Republic in the face of First Order power, she reaches out to what little contacts she still has as Rey, Chewbacca and Artoo-Detoo head into the Unknown Regions to find Luke Skywalker.

For Leia does not have time to wait for Rey to return.

And the First Order is not going to give her time, either.

For even if Kylo Ren was wounded by his confrontation with Chewbacca, Rey and Finn, Snoke was not, and nor were Hux, and Phasma - the loss of Starkiller does not mean their plans have ended.

They have just begun.



Continuity Notes

- the Thrawn Trilogy now starts in 5 ABY, not 9 ABY. The Yuuzhan Vong War ended in 25 ABY. Everything set after the Yuuzhan Vong War occurs in its original timeline slots.

- this game is set in 34 ABY, one year before the Dark Nest Crisis, two weeks after the destruction of Starkiller.

- Jacen Solo, Finn, Rey, Luke, Artoo, Leia, Chewbacca, Cal Omas, Gilad Pellaeon, Kylo Ren and Snoke are not playable characters.

- Original Characters are acceptable.

- Legends and Canon Characters are acceptable.

- No One Sith characters are playable.

- All Jedi characters will have been in hiding since 25 ABY.

Character Sheet

Name
Age
Species
Gender
Equipment
Personal ship, if any
Short Bio

Rules

1. All Character Sheets to me for approval by PM first.
2. All posts are to be preambled by IC, in character, and with a TAG to the player, including the USER.
3. Force users are not immortal. If you exert yourself, the GM will impose a limitation join you. Please keep that in mind.
4. If you cease posting, your character may be taken over by the GM.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

GM Approved!!

Name: Duke Praxon
Age: 54
Species: Human
Gender: Male
Equipment: Civilian clothes, comlink, concealed vibroblade
Personal ship, if any: The Easy Spacer, a SoroSuub Personal Luxury Yacht; he is also a collector of vintage starfighters, with an Incom T-65 X-Wing and a Z-95 Headhunter being notable highlights of his growing obsession
Short Bio: Duke is a famous holofilm star known for his high critical acclaim and numerous accolades, including the CWCA’s (Core World Critics Association) prestigious best actor Star Burst for his role as Reht Murra in the holodrama, Kallea’s Hope, in which he portrayed a troubled father struggling to cope with his daughter’s drug addiction. But he was not always known for the more serious, arthouse films that always seem to attract the attention of the CWCA elite. At the onset of his career, he had the opportunity to portray Han Solo in Han Solo and the Pirates of Kessel and all subsequent films in the series that followed the adventures of the Corellian smuggler and other notable players throughout the duration of the Galactic Civil War. A daunting task for sure, but one that instantly shot him to stardom.

In the years since his success with Kallea’s Hope, (a role that many considered a welcomed breath of fresh air from the usual, non-stop action romps that made him famous), Duke has transitioned himself into pursuing more dramatic and age-appropriate roles, but still has a heart for action and adventure.

While very little is known about his background and private life, aside from having a wife and two daughters, he has become somewhat of a humanitarian in the intervening weeks since the destruction of Hosnian Prime and her sister planets within the Republic. He has responded to the call to action and has volunteered himself to travel to different systems to offer help with the relief efforts in this dark time.

 

*The Game is now Closed*

Unless you have sent me a character sheet, or we are discussing a sheet already, then you have missed the boat, sadly. If you want to be considered should another player drop out, message me and we can discuss.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

 

A few days earlier...

'There has been an awakening, have you felt it?'

Jacen Solo paused, turning his head slightly to listen again for that reverberation, for that echo, in the very Force itself. It had a dark tinge, a terrible one, as grave as it was mocking.

It had been nine long years since the Yuuzhan Vong War ended, but Jacen knew that to return without an answer was to start a chain of events that would not end. That his daughter would assist the Dark Man in bringing down the Galaxy. Sensed he had, the deaths of Jedi, of more familiar ripples with names - Waxern Kel, Tresk Im'nel, Cheklev, Klin-Fa Gi, in one conflagration, perhaps - and more he did not. That voice, as well, he knew that, one day, he have to confront that voice.

Assuming, Jacen thought, as he turned to face the mausoleum before him, a ruined construct within the broken citadel of Ziost, that the voice was behind him, and not in-front, some vestige, he thought with a certain wistfulness, of a dark side spirit endeavouring to persuade him not to tear apart its resting place, to steal its secrets and use them to defeat the Dark Man.

With a grimace, purging himself of his arrogance, Jacen stepped forward.

If it was a dark threat reaching out across the Galaxy for him, or some warning, a dark portent, it would have to wait for him to deal with his Dark Man.

--
IC: Hux
Now, aboard the Finaliser, deep in the Unknown Regions

Flames.

Flames across the Galaxy.

But not enough.

Hux leaned over the galactic map, at the first thrusts towards victory. The First Order fleets were emerging from the charted sectors of former Imperial Remnant space and advancing on all fronts. It had been a simple manner to overwhelm the disorganised forces policing the edges of Imperial territory, especially as those worlds had been depopulated by the Yuuzhan Vong and could only offer a token resistance to their Resurgent-class Star Destroyers.

Resistance.

Hux turned to the board, to the irregular pockets of combat on worlds such as Dubrillion, Garqi and Agamar, with no reasonable build up of military strength on record beforehand. X-wings were particularly difficult to identity from one fighter to another - unless it belonged to Poe Dameron, or Corran Horn, who had a different colour scheme to most fighters - and it was not always possible to identify the difference between a T70 and a T85 design even if it was possible to see it between a T series X-wing and an XJ series. But the Resistance seemed to draw strength from the symbolic fighter which destroyed the Death Star and, now, Starkiller, rather than from the more modern E-wings.

'Well?'

Hux initially paid no heed to Captain Phasma and her enquiring tone, not entirely removed by the filter on her chrome plated helmet, though he felt pressurised immediately to make a statement. 'We need to consolidate our position at Ord Mantell before we can proceed further, and then I am confident that we can progress with Operation Arrowhead from our position in the Ilum system.'

'So what do you need from me?' The second voice around the command table was a grave one, and Hux already loathed it. Looking up, he was referred to a Knight of Ren, the vaguely named 'Crusher'. Known to be a Force User, he was short and to the point, but describing his black armour was difficult. Crusher claimed to have taken the visage from Tulak Hord, an ancient Dark Lord of the Sith, but Hux could not verify nor deny the claim - nor care. He was signing his orders in another name, and never seemed to be present when Snoke communicated directly, off Force walking or something similar, and so Hux found his decision to be involved now most insulting.

Because this was not just a discussion in front of the new triumvirate in charge of the war effort. Miat Temm, former adjunct to Gilad Pellaeon, Azgath N'Dul, a minor noble in the First Order by virtue of his parentage, and Mareek Stele, a virtuoso pilot and former Emperor's Eye, one of the very few agents of the late Emperor who had remained loyal over the years. All there were Force sensitive to some degree, and Miat had served as the First Order spy within the former Remnant for several years. It was almost as if these four - plus Crusher - had replaced Kylo Ren in the group, as Kylo Ren was all of these and more besides - pilot, turncoat, nobility and Knight of Ren.

Not all were present in person, attending by hologram, and several were not even present in mind, Hux thought, silently cursing Phasma for pressing him when she should have been working with him against the Force sensitives. Ren was bad enough, for him to have multiplied was infuriating.

'I need one of you to track down the Resistance base, one of you to work towards obtaining the StarMap, and one, or a combination of you, to hunt down any wayward Jedi that appear, or to make that a secondary element. As the Supreme Leader has said on many occasion, if Skywalker is to return the new Jedi will rise.' That represented the largest complication in their calculations - if the young woman known as Rey was any indication, a single Force user could undo the entire balance of a military engagement, and the Resistance had one in charge, even if Rey was likely consorting with Skywalker even now, though even with star-charts travelling through the uncharted elements of the Unknown Regions would take days if not weeks.

Miat Temm spoke up. 'I shall remain here and provide Supreme Leader Snoke's voice during his focus upon Kylo Ren's recovery and training.' Crusher seemed to incline his helmeted head to Miat, as if he would take umbrage, but let it go.

'Fine.' Hux turned slightly to encompass the other three Force users. 'Your missions? I shall assign a Resurgent-class to your use.'

Miat still felt the need to add, 'Agreeable.'

'You need not a ship if you are staying here,' Crusher said gruffly. 'Wasteful.'

Had he been a Force user, Hux would have felt a slight pulse of annoyance from Crusher about the whole affair, and a single surge of adrenaline from Miat, quickly dampened down, almost abruptly. From Stele, nothing was apparent whatsoever, his expression stoic.

What none of them would be able to feel was the subcutaneous implant in a thigh, a pocket AI in all but name, append a single file of data to the hypercomm of the ship, to attach itself to a transmission sent at a later date, but programmed to branch off at a separate relay so as not to betray its location, or that the Destroyer had sent a message to someone. Even then, it would bounce through several relays before arriving at its location with two words.

'I'm in.'

TAG: DreadwarDreadwar
---
IC: Gilad Pellaeon
Location Undisclosed

'I'm sorry, Cal, I simply cannot help. I am not positioned, or even able to, assist in rescuing the Empire from its new rulers. Head of State Sarreti is a puppet governor at best, but it is all very popular, and the First Order has ruled for nearly a decade now.'

In short, the Empire is winning, and you aren't going to see Pellaeon interfere with that, personal opinions of Snoke and his theocracy aside.

Cal Omas, light years away, nodded to himself. 'All I could do was ask. I would have done so sooner after Starkiller was destroyed, but it has been hectic.'

'And if the First Order had actually been crippled by that destruction, perhaps I could have done more. I may not approve of destroying star systems, at all, but that is a matter of very public record. My saying it when the net result is the New Republic being crippled? Worth even less.'

'I understand, Gilad,' sighed Cal. 'I hope I shall be in touch.'

'I hope so too, old friend.'

With that Cal cut the line, and Gilad turned to the other occupant of the ready room of the Right of Rule. His comlink had relayed a message that his agent was in place aboard the Finaliser. 'It looks like, now the players have been revealed, I can get started.'

'But how to throw it?'

Head of State Sarreti shrugged. 'How can we throw it? The Empire has been transformed into the kind of military junta that Devian or Hethrir would have been proud of - the lowest of the low, fascist to the core.'

'Let's see what we can do.' Gilad Pellaeon pulled up his encryption, nigh impenetrable, and shot a message off to Susular Dha'tra, Atropos and Raadu.

WOULD LIKE TO MEET FACE TO FACE FOR JOB. DISCRETION WILL BE APPARENT FROM JOB. PAY NEGOTIABLE. KILL JOB. ONE TARGET. HIGH PROFILE. 10,000 IS ALREADY IN YOUR ACCOUNT AS A GESTURE. GILAD.

He had never engaged these particular hunters but Boba Fett had personally recommended them as alternatives to Kenix Kil or Aurra Sing, neither of which were pleasant options to Pellaeon. Fett was tied down to neutral Manda'lor, still recovering from the last war, as everyone sane in the galaxy should have been. As it was, the message was very vague, what with the lack of surname, but he hoped they would be sufficiently intrigued.

'What are you going to hire those two for?'

Pellaeon steeled himself to say words he had never spoken aloud, for even he could not guarantee the personal loyalty of every member of his crew.

'I'm going to hire them to kill Snoke.'

--
IC: Kurlen Flennic
Yaga Minor, the Imperial Shipyards

There has not been such a zest running through the Empire for nearly two decades. Eleven years after the Battle of Endor this region of the Empire signed the Galactic Concordance, ten years after it was originally drawn up with the regime of Ars Dangor on Coruscant. Of course that had been a sham, as they continued the construction of illegal vessels such as the Razor's Kiss, and then Thrawn had perpetuated the peace while pretending to lead a rogue task force. Every major breach was met with more lost territory, more reparations, and less of an ability to survive as a regime, and more peacekeeping against rogue organisations such as Hethrir and the Empire Reborn, Kueller and Brakiss, and the Second Imperium. The real war was over at Jakku, no matter what hardliners such as Palpatine Reborn, Daala and Flennic himself had sought to say.

But now Flennic was validated in his long demands that they go back to war and win it. Supreme Leader Snoke had come to the Moff Council after the retirement of Pellaeon, and together they secretly brokered the funnelling of resources into First Order space within the Unknown Regions - resources which had been directed to them, amusingly, by the Galactic Alliance to restore Bastion, Muunilinst, Shramar and other worlds devastated by the Yuuzhan Vong War. Instead those worlds had been abandoned, and the resources used to push on the worlds to the west of the Remnant between them and the First Order, a bloodying for the two forces against Vagaari and Yuuzhan Vong remnants, calculated by both groups to leaders to forge bonds between their troops.

As the Alliance faded as a cross galaxy treaty between the Chiss, New Republic, Remnant, Hutts, Corporate Sector and Hapans, the New Republic came back to the fore and the Galactic Concordance became the bind upon the Remnant again. Unable to train new Stormtrooper Corps unless in a state of war, banned from constructing anything larger than an Imperial Star Destroyer and from possessing shipyards which could properly maintain the two Mandator-class Star Dreadnaughts they had, the Dominion and Megador, the stranglehold of the Concordance was re-established.

But now, in his full military honours, Grand Moff Flennic, as he was now known as following his rise under Supreme Leader Snoke, was ready to give the speech that the New Empire needed, to invigorate it to strike at the heart of the galaxy and triumph over he decapitated New Republic once and for all.

Thousands of Stormtroopers made up the centre of the plaza, in one of the primary chambers of the shipyards, with maintenance workers, hired civilians and more besides cheering on either side of the display. With the resources of the First Order behind them, the Empire was reborn, renewed, and soon to be fully restored. With a pair of scarlet royal guards behind him, Flennic, fully garbed in his full military honours, was ready to give the speech of his career.

'I today address the the First Order, and the galaxy at large. We, the successors of the old Empire, which saved the Galaxy from the horrors of the Clone Wars, from the depredations of the Separatists and that terrorist General Grievous, only to be forced to defend the old Republic from religious extremists and their allies in the Jedi Rebellion, have long awaited the time for when the fractious and squabbling Senate is again cast aside in the face of pristine Order and the final imposition of peace and justice upon a people which desperately craves it.'

'For we are demanded to do this, to defeat the relentless tide of conflict and insanity that pours from the mouths of a thousand voices tearing this Galaxy in a hundred directions. Under the First Order there will be one voice, one direction, and none of the squabbling which allowed the Yuuzhan Vong to defecate half of the Galaxy in two years, defoliating whole worlds and uprooting millennia of civilisation.'

'For we are the First Order!'

Cheers from the civilians, a salute with a fist to the air for the troopers and naval officers.

And so on. It was not too dissimilar to the one Hux had given before the destruction of the Hosnian system, but that had to been to a group of the most radicals of radicals, and though Flennic had watched it secondhand, he was half pleased that that circle of Imperials had been weakened by the destruction of Starkiller base, requiring him to be brought into the inner circle of Supreme Leader Snoke's plans.

The other Moffs of the Council, Freyborn, Westermal, Quillan, Getelles, Trevin, and the new Moff Quille, though Sarreti and Crowal were conspicuously absent even in hologram form. Also present, unbeknownst to all present, and to each other, were three bounty hunters, each having been painstakingly handed, separately, the bounty for Moff Flennic, posted anonymously with data on the meeting and speech, designed to coincide with the relaunch of the Megador, many years after it was originally crippled at the Battle of Anx Minor, barely having limped away from the fall of Bastion. Both of them being present was supposed to cause a conflict in the middle of the mission, but to the advantage of the anonymous party. As with any political target, it was a wheels within wheels moment.

Each Susular Dha'tra, Atropos and Raadu would have their own approaches to reaching the meeting, to navigating the ore freighter filled spacelanes, avoiding the two Imperial Star Destroyers in orbit, the Peerless and Defiant, and then a Victory-class, the Protector, which was on the edge of the system covering arrivals to the shipyards. The latter ship had even served at Endor, and was one of the two Destroyers who had continued to serve since then - along with the Relentless. Sadly the Chimaera had been mothballed, and even the aged Right of Rule was due to be broken up when it returned from its patrol route.

In short, it was a fortress system.

And as such three transmissions from Pellaeon, to each of them, would have been noticed, assuming they pulled up their messages, or were leaving them open as an oversight. Not that they had plenty on their mind.

TAG: Zedd-Vega, Mitth-Fisto, TimZedd-VegaMitthTim
--
Aboard the Galactic Voyager, outskirts of the Ruan system.

Cal Omas closed his eyes as he cut off the transmission, turning to face the other hologram in his room, who would have not been apparent to Pellaeon. 'I did what I could.'

'I know you did,' Leia soothed. 'But Pellaeon was always a pragmatist. He only signed the Bastion Accords because the Empire had lost, and that was more than a decade after the original Galactic Concordance had been signed, and he had been at the forefront of breaching it more than once.' Her voice was slightly rueful, recalling events nearly two decades gone by, sadness ringing every word.

Sadness tinged every word she used, now.

Cal Omas cleared his throat, pressing on. 'Which is why it was all the more apparent that the Senate had been infiltrated by the First Order, taking advantage of the breakdown in the system during the Vong War.'

'Indeed,' said Leia, weariness upon weariness in her voice. Hindsight was twenty twenty. 'And I'm sure those Senators that Snoke brought off enjoyed their ring side seats for their own annihilation.'

Omas had came out of retirement to this chaos, as had many others. 'And the Senators who survived are in shock and haven't returned my summons. Nor have worlds that responded to my call for new Senate, as of yet.'

Leia shrugged. 'Ackbar says we need a military victory to acquire back legitimacy. Nobody will put their head on an aurodium platter if they can avoid it. We'll get some principled ones step up, but they need something to step up to.'

'You have a plan?'

'Three, actually. None of which you need to be aware of.' That was code for; not over this channel. While they could have benefited from Gilad joining their cause being leaked, anything else they could not afford to let get out.

'Oh good,' said Cal drily. 'You think you can contact them all?'

'I need only a few. Only the Force is going to stem the tide.'

'Snoke will know that, and Kylo Ren wasn't the only Force user to fall under his sway.'

Leia turned away. 'I know.'

Her hologram vanished, and Cal Omas sat in silence for a moment. A small but growing coalition may have been forming around him, but the enemy had Star Destroyers which outclassed every ship he had left to hand.

And although he knew he could rely on Leia to push things along, he also knew she would try to do everything.

He pressed a button on his deck, took his seat back. His office was deep within the ship, and the screen showing the stars behind him was a hologram for the purposes of creating a room, and not a box. It also prevented him from lurching back to memories of the Rebellion, trapped in his X-wing, fighting a battle that was only just slightly more impossible than the one he had to face now.

'Send in Captain Aquilla.'

Rhoen was an orphan of Hosnian, as much as Cal was an orphan of Alderaan. Cal hoped that this would motivate him to defeat the First Order. Cal needed to gauge the mentality of his squadron leaders, and Corona Squadron was one with a grand tradition of fighting the Empire.

The doors to the reception opened, which was only manned by C-3PO, leant to him by Leia in the absence of a full diplomatic staff, and likely also designed to keep an eye on Cal's associates, as distrust was very much her way since the Senate rejected her nine years ago. That caution was prudent, and not paranoia - Leia was simply the mother of all under her command. Cal went to speak to Rhoen, to make a wisecrack into the reception area about how he was only a harmless politician, when the glass behind him shattered.

Were Cal not thrown from his chair, his desk turned over, the other chairs for guests strewn to the corners of the room thrown far away, he would see a single, black armoured special forces Stormtrooper, having somehow infiltrated the ship and blown the wall out from the other room. A single pilot, aged, greyed, was unconscious on the floor, in the room over, maybe even dead.

The trooper lifted his blaster and fired it at the door mechanism, not even looking to see if he hit and automatically caused it to close, and, standing over the still form of Cal Omas, lowered his pistol down to shoot him dead.

TAG: galactic-vagabond422galactic-vagabond422
---
IC: Leia Organa Solo
Aboard the Home One, deep space near Yavin

Leia sat, still, for a fair amount of time. In many ways she was alone, without counsel. Han was gone, Luke too, let alone Chewbacca and so many others. She had lost so much. One son to death, one to the darkness, one wandering the Galaxy oblivious to the greater cause, and another daughter somewhere in the Unknown Regions.

In other ways, however, she was not, as apparent when the door to her suite chimed.

Admiral Ackbar padded through. 'No luck?'

'Of course not, old friend,' Leia wistfully recalling the many years they worked side by side as President and Grand Admiral, though of course she wore the titles of Chancellor and Chief of State, insofar as much as Ackbar was Fleet Admiral, Supreme Commander, and, at times, Senator for Dac to the New Republic. He had faked his death with the help of Winter in the dying days of the Yuuzhan Vong War, taking the reins of Insider One - formerly Wedge Antilles - and retooled the secret organisation known as the Insiders into the Resistance.

She steeled her gaze, not needing to reminisce over events years gone any more.

'Ematt is positioned on Shadow, and the recon squad should be arriving at Generis shortly. And then we can move on with Operation Starwalker. We don't have much time to get everyone together.'

Ackbar turned his head, one eye fixing her with its gaze. 'Then we should check on Poe, should we not?'

--
In orbit of Generis

What was supposed to be a recon run was clearly not going to be just that. Poe Dameron, leading the six other survivors of their fated mission to destroy the Starkillwe base, including Temmin 'Snap' Wexley, Nieb Nunb and others, arrived to investigate the rumours that Generis had been targeted by the First Order - as opposed to the confirmed reports that Dubrillion, Mygeeto and Ord Trasi had fallen, which had struck Leia as odd.

Those rumours were now very clear. Though Snap's X-wing had better sensors due to its recon suite, Nunb saw them first, chittering in Sullustan. 'A squadron at mark two!'

There they were, twelve TIE fighters, First Order variants, thankfully not the SF twin gunner versions that had proven so difficult to take down. But that was just the vanguard

Beyond it, screened by a further squadron, this of elderly Preybirds, was an Interdictor-class cruiser, flanked by a pair of Strike-class cruisers, pointed in-system towards a battle involving a quad of Mon Calamari cruisers being surrounded by three Resurgent-class Star Destroyers and double that of lesser capital ships. As they arrived, the Interdictor was illuminated by the flare of a Republic frigate exploring.

They were immediately caught in the gravity well of the cruiser, and fighters swept over them. The engagement was a rout, one which the Republic fleet, likely bereft of strategic command, was going to lose and then lose every ship they had.

This was the time that the astromechs of the squad took the moment to exchange excited chatter about something that Snap's fighter had recorded and thus had just untangled from the static...? Nunb didn't catch it all, something about triangulating coordinates, shuttles and Starkiller, as if they'd been working on it for the last fortnight.

It was all too much for Nunb, and Snap's astromech was particularly insistence for his attention, all the while R9 toned to tell Poe that he had a channel from High Command ready to be opened and it sounded urgent.

Nothing like a few things to deal with at once, was there?

TAG: Ramza, PengRamzaPeng
---
IC: 'Dunc' - an alias
Shadow, moon to Corellia

Dunc would not say that he knew Shadow like the back of his hand, but he knew it fairly well. It and his associates had made famous use of its infamous shadowport, for many years. Because the moonlet was called Shadow, Dunc absently assumed that it was the very first seedy port within the original Republic, thus, 'Shadow'. That it was a Corellian moon only sold the story, as a system which had a habit of refusing to buck to authority.

Of course, that also made it, occasionally, brazenly stupid, if only to stick a proverbial appendage up at the central government. This meant that Thrackan Sal-Solo was a Minister in the government when he should have been in jail. And that meant that Thrackan was railing against the failures of the New Republic in protecting his late cousin, Han, from the maliciousness of the First Order, and for failing to keep a Corellian patriot from getting caught up in the affairs of Force users, segueing neatly into reasons why Corellia should have more influence over its own affairs and should resist the urge to commit to the side of either government, in spite of the remarkable freedoms Corellia had been given in the last near-decade since the Yuuzhan Vong War - that was in the face of Corellia nearly signing up to the side of the invaders.

Dunc shook his head as he half-watched the holovid from the chair beneath his 'tramp' freighter. He had been here nearly a week, his eyes covered with black shades to indicate he was blind to the rest of the Galaxy, his walking stick rested beside the pot for credits. His main of white hair, as much on his face as his head, sold his age. It was all facade, but he had to wait for a particular freighter...

And here it was.

Duke Praxon was doing half publicised half secret mercy missions across the galaxy and it was only a matter of time before he was directed to this shadowport and Dunc could act. That Praxon looked like Han Solo, sufficiently enough to have done a role as him in a holofilm, would require him to be subtle, but Dunc already knew the Duke was coming.

However, Dunc was not the only person in wait. Four other operatives, strewn around the busy port, were waiting for the The Easy Spacer to touch down, positioned to collect legitimate supplies for worlds in need that were in a desperate state following the cession of galactic commerce in the last fortnight of chaos. Until the centre was re-established, they were in deep trouble.

As the ship touched down, still half watching it squeeze into a bay four ships down, still turning his head as if all he was doing was registering a new noise as a blind beggar with a broken down freighter behind him. The four ships between him, Dunc had already directed to be cased, in-case Praxon had been seen by another. He did not know all of their names, but was sufficiently content as to their harmlessness. One was a YT-1930 light freighter, the Noble One, and that was the only one Dunc knew the name of. Little did he know that it belonged to Elias Noble, a Jedi. It would have resulted in Dunc taking a very different approach to this abduction. Dunc squeezed a button on his disheveled coat, setting off a signal.

Nor would Dunc know that one of his four compatriots had currently his ship, an elderly starhopper two ships down from the Duke's ship as it set down in the busy hangar, was in a state of disrepair that had required him to, only this morning - thus preventing him from informing the rest of the squad - to urgently hire Bre and Fred to repair the port engine manifold so he could actually escape. Half of the deceit involved various members of the gang heading into separate directions, betraying the military approach of the kidnapping to put it onto First Order scopes. The man, a human nicknamed Fox - his given name to Bre - had no intention of paying her, and even now was hovering over her as she worked, but Praxon was early, which meant he promptly turned as soon as he received the signal and slipped on his helmet, drawing a blaster quickly from a locker and ignoring Fred's curiosity as he all but ran towards the Duke's ship.

'Go,' was the signal. It did not need to remind the four of them, all garbed as if a Guavian death clan, to keep their blasters set to stun. Standing and throwing off his shawl, Dunc pointed his blaster at Praxon as he came down the ramp, shouting across the busy plaza, people already scattering.

'Praxon, this is your last curtain call!'

TAG: HanSolo29, Nick, KtalaHanSolo29NickKtala
---
IC: Captain Mitaka
Aboard the Relentless, in orbit above Dagobah

Captain Mitaka was absently holding a gloved hand to his throat even as his command decanted from hyperspace. A brand new Resurgent-class Destroyer, an excellent promotion potentially caused by the selfsame reason his hands were clasped to his throat. It had barely been a fortnight that he had been throttled by Kylo Ren for delivering bad news about the 'girl', who, it had turned out, was Rey, responsible for the maiming of someone as powerful and terrifying as Ren. The bruises on his skin had faded, slightly, but the soreness was still there.

He moved his hand back from his throat, as he began to issue commands. 'Take us into geosynchronous orbit, now, deploy all transports and launch two squadrons as support. I want a third defending the ship and the rest on standby to launch.'

Their mission? To track down each and every 'Force nexus' and ensure the Resistance were not making use of it. Dagobah was reported to have been used by Skywalker as his private retreat, a secret kept from many but of course not his nephews, which included Ren. After this they would look to Yavin, and Endor, and so on, until they found the Resistance. A single Destroyer was more than enough to annihilate the Resistance, what with most of its fighters having been lost.

Little did they know what they would find.

---

Down below, a single voice would alert Kodo Prine, reverberating through his mind as much as his breathmask as much as the air around him.

'Time to end your seclusion, it is.'

A second came, almost a growl.

'Yes. Come to us, and we shall see where your fate truly lies.'

And then the Force was full of many, many more signatures, roaring into low orbit and looking to find a safe place to land amongst the swamps and trees, a single transport, loaded with more than twenty stormtroopers, coming down not more than a dozen meters from his makeshift camp, homing in on three times their number in life forms, of too many sizes to decipher between.

It would be a few minutes before they touched down.

He did not have much time.

TAG: Darth_WanderguardWanderguard
---
IC: Tionne Solusar
Dantooine

It was another brilliant and beautiful morning. Silently gliding down the stairs of their home, and quietly moving the kettle - an old, ceramic thing, one of the many quaint accessories to their little hovel, complete with a gas fire, of all things.

As much as Tionne loved teaching, she found that she could again love their life. After the first few years in hiding, establishing their new identities, Tionne had despaired, but supported her often stoic husband in his pursuit of... Well, not pursuit. His fleeing from his guilt. But, over time, she had managed to weave her studies of ancient history into their journeys, until they had settled here, nearly three years ago.

They had a good rapport with the neighbours, and while a few may have suspected what they were - Jedi, dare she whisper in her own head - none had any issue with them, in spite of the long and arguably tragic history that Dantooine had with the Jedi Order.

Of course, Tionne absently thought, the Jedi Order's present was more than a little tragic. She remembered feeling the death of so many students, remembered Luke's decision, remembered the in-fighting as Corran wanted to honour Luke's wishes, and Kyp wanted to lead a hunt for Ben Solo, and the others simply fell in-between, Mara refusing to be involved when her own Ben was her concern. The recriminations, and the quiet insinuation that those masters who had fallen to the dark side in the past could not be included in the discussion had been enough, and the children had been whisked away into hiding, the few dangerous relics of the Order kept with Tionne.

Tionne knew the sound of her clattering, no matter how quietly done, would wake Kam, but it was about time they woke. Pulling her nightdress close as she transferred from the kettle to the stove from be sink, the doorbell rang, and Tionne, so lost in her thoughts, simply called out to Kam, undoubtedly lying in bed and dragging out the morning. Then again he was just as likely to be fully dressed and off on one of his mediative walks. The kitchen was set back from the lounge, itself connected to the hallway where the stairs went down, past the front door, so arguably Kam was closer to the bell than she was.

'Honey, the door?'

Her voice was as musical as ever, and she took a small joy in imagining the smile on Kam's face, her smile, which belonged only to her.

But her attention was caught by the sudden surge of adrenaline when her voice registered with their visitor, and Tionne's danger sense switched on, loudly. Promptly dropping the kettle in the sink, she assessed the situation swiftly - namely that her lightsaber was upstairs on her bedside cabinet. Her mind rushed for the reason they had been found, and was struck by the obviosity of it - the neighbours.

Reaching out and engaging the second layer of locks with a twist of her mind she heard an impossible noise from the other side of the door, as she moved quickly but quietly towards it, hoping to get passed and up the stairs before it was knocked in.

Snap-hissss.

A crimson lightsaber burst through the door.

TAG: TensuTensu
---
IC: Haydnat Treen
Eshan, medical facilities of the MSS

It had been a harrowing two weeks.

Haydnat Treen, off and on Senator for Kuat for decades, had gone to extreme pains simply not to side. On a ship of Kuati design on the edge of the Hosnian system - in point of fact running late to the State of the New Republic address that the late Chancellor Villecham was due to give - she and her crew had barely survived the shockwave and subsequent radiation that had bathed the system when their vessel had been crippled by the firing of the Starkiller superweapon.

Lesser women would have still been in shock from the affair, and one of her surviving crew had actually gone full blown insane from the affair, but Treen was made of harder stuff and she knew she had to get back into the fray and get Kuat into place to survive the future, and quickly. That meant tracking from Vincent Mikaru, who was the man who had saved her. Once she met him, she could push on from there.

She found him in his last therapy for radiation exposure, and while Treen had anticipated he was the man who had directed the dangerous mission to save survivors, she had not expected that Vincent had done so himself. It sent her stomach a flutter at the idea of voluntarily not only putting her servants and employees into danger but also herself and she knew that Vincent was not a man to be toyed with. But, she was already here, and she had made an official request.

Another man was there, waiting for him to finish his session. Heavy set, he gave Treen an appraising look, and Treen recognised his gait of that of a soldier of some kind. Vincent with his files might have a better chance of recognising him, but even then, it had been nine long years since Corran Horn had been seen in the galaxy at large, and he was, obviously, in disguise, his beard grown out, his skin tone with a pink pigment within it to make him appear a Zeltron, his clothes were the only link to his past, with Corellian greens throughout.

As the only member of the Resistance that had stayed in one place, or Horn hoped that Mikaru was in the Resistance, it seemed if Horn wanted to get back into his fight he needed to start right here and right now. And so he was here, watching through the glass as the droids tended to Vincent.

The doorway behind Treen clicked open and she turned, very surprised to see the aforementioned crew member who had cracked, her hair askew. She was in medical clothes, and Treen could even see Iv's trailing from her hands. 'Michel, you should not -'

Treen tuned into the former engineers muttering. 'I sawwhatwashappeningstoppedtheshipmadeusarriveearlybrokenmychains... Broken the ship, broken.' Horn stepped up to Treen, midway moving around her to interpose himself between Michel and the Kuati, his mouth open to issue a warning, the deranged patient setting off a danger sense for him, though with a quick scan of Michel there were no weapons he could see -

And then she thrust up her hand as Corran's shoulders came in line with Treen's and he was hurtled back, hard, into the wall behind him, cracking the transparisteel of Vincent's booth and dropping him out cold. Treen fell to the side, the elderly woman struggling to catch her breath.

What in the nine Corellian Hells was going on?

TAG: Kahn_Iceay

 

IC: Duke Praxon
Shadow, moon to Corellia

Traveling to Shadow had been a risk…he had known that going in, had been warned countless times by his agent that he was to forgo his plans in order to pursue a more ‘safer’ alternative if he was so insistent on helping the cause. But in this day and age, what was truly considered safe? It was all in the eye of the beholder and even his wife, who was usually very sensitive over such matters, had trusted his intuition and had given him her blessing. And so, with the help of his assistant and mechanic, Wyn, he had packed up the Easy Spacer and set course for the Corellian system.

The trip was only scheduled to take a few days and Praxon had taken every precaution in order to keep a low profile while operating on the moon. Or so, he thought…

”Praxon, this is your last curtain call!”

The gruff proclamation sent an icy chill down his spine, but it wasn’t until his eyes - hidden behind an expensive pair of dark shades - locked with the barrel of the blaster that he froze and promptly dropped the supply container he had been carrying. The sound made a metallic ‘clank’ on the landing ramp, which in turn, alerted Wyn that something was off.

”You alright, Ian?” his assistant called down from above.

Praxon noted the use of his given name. He was no longer ‘the Duke’ here - a persona he had adopted a long time ago and had since become as much a part of who he was as the face he saw each day when he looked in the mirror. With a wince, he responded to the inquiry by lifting his hands into the air, not wanting to make his assailant nervous. The last thing he wanted to do was call for help and risk getting shot by some guy with an itchy trigger finger.

“Easy,” he uttered coyly, hoping that Wyn would hear him and take the hint to get help. “Take it easy, okay?”

He kept his gaze leveled at the other man, silently assessing him and trying to determine what it is he wanted. While he quickly ran down the list that included rabid fanboy, emotionally disturbed psychopath and much worse, he decided to give the man the benefit of the doubt and settled on the least threatening scenario - partly because he didn’t want to deal with anything else and to make himself feel better - and determined that this was another poor victim of the Hosnian tragedy.

“I know it’s been hard, I really do,” he started in again, trying to sound sympathetic. With his hands still in the air, he nudged the supply container with the toe of his boot and kicked it down the ramp. “Here, take it. It’s yours…all of it. Anything you need is right there. That’s why I came. See? I don’t want any trouble…”

By this point, he noticed that several onlookers were starting to gather, most notably, a young girl and a blue alien, both of which stood out against the harried scene unfolding around them. But it didn’t matter if they were running away in fear or gawking, it did very little to boost his confidence. It was only a matter of time before his secret was out and the media came swooping in like vultures to the kill. All they would want is that money shot of an assailant pointing a blaster at Duke Praxon.

TAG: Sinrebirth, Ktala, NickLitYouAFlame