HoloNet News Enough Is Enough!

[Emryc Thorne]

OOC: Open to reacts only​

It began as a broadcast across the Outer and Mid Rim worlds, but it began to quickly gain traction. Within a day or two, it had made its way to the Core and Inner Rim worlds, well within the Republic and FWA territories.

The broadcast opened up with a podium and a well dressed man standing behind it. His hair was dyed black, a sharp contrast to the icy silver eyes that gazed at the camera. He was adorned in a suit.

“Citizens of independent systems,” He began, his voice a rich baritone that commanded attention, “I am humbled by this opportunity to speak to you and it pains me to even be here today. I am here because we are bleeding. I am here today because we are forgotten and cast aside. I stand before you because there is no justice when you are not within the boundaries of the Free World Alliance or the Republic. Force users have been allowed to run unchecked in the unallied systems. The Free World Alliance has sat idly by while Jedi and Rangers have stepped well outside of their jurisdiction to lead attacks on worlds that have been self governed and had no quarrels with any other sectors.``

The broadcast cut to footage then of two men arriving to pick up a shipment at a facility. It was creatively edited so multiple camera footages showed how the Jedi abruptly launched the crates at the customers inside the facility, drawing out a saber and firing off a few shots. Entirely unprovoked.

“The independent systems do not have a collective government or a conglomerate to protect it. The Outer Rim and other neutral systems are subjected to whatever whims and wishes the Jedi or anyone else has. The Free World Alliance has taken no action to curb the actions of the Jedi and has instead decided to forget that they operate by no rules.”

The footage cut back to Trys Aran’s arrest of Oren Zapan with Emryc’s voice speaking over it, “They have forgotten what these people are capable of and how they will play the role of judge, jury and executioner.”

“And let me ask you, where did that leave them? Their Ranger Chief in the hospital, countless of his rangers dead, buildings destroyed, lives disrupted. The Jedi have led their enemies directly into the worlds of their allies,” Footage showed the destruction in the Core Worlds and that of the Ranger Command on Coruscant, along with the panicked civilians that screamed and ran in different directions, “Attacks have since run rampant within the Core Worlds. Getting into bed with the Force users simply aggravated the situation and provoked even more terror and violence. And this has allowed the Jedi to get bolder with their actions and lead assaults on worlds that otherwise carry on minding their own business.”

“No more!” He slammed a fist down on the podium as the camera switched back to him, “Free systems of the galaxy will not stand idly by while our worlds are desecrated and our ways of life are disrupted because Jedi want to force their ideals on everyone and drag neutral worlds into their war against the Sith. We will not make the same mistakes that the Core Worlds have made.”

Emryc gazed sternly at the camera, “Join me, world leaders. I stand before you today to let you know that I hear you. I stand before you today to finally give you a voice. I stand before you and invite you to lend me your hand and stand with me. We will succeed where the Free World Alliance and Republic have failed its people. We will defend our homes, our people, our traditions and our ways of life.”

“Who am I? I am Emryc Thorne. I am the man that went into the lower districts of Coruscant to help the forgotten victims of the heinous attacks from Force using terrorists. I am the man that saw Thyferra liberated from the clutches of the Bacta Cartel and put the Vratix Canir back in place,” Emryc exhaled slowly, his face displaying very human emotions that portrayed him as an impassioned and wronged man, “You will not remain unheard. I, Emryc Thorne, am a man of action. I am a man of the people. I make a commitment to stand for you and together we will forge an alliance of independent systems.”

 

[Maxims Tionson]

"Hi Darleen - yes it's Max. Good to hear you too! I'm feeling much better after my surgery, thank you." he said with a strained smile as he rewound the footage from the holonet for what had to be the fifth time at this rate, "Just calling to try and get ahold of Oren - he in his office?"

Was it strange that the Jedi Council had some Jedi who liked to act the part of their secretaries? Yes it probably was but it also made some sense. After all, poor Darleen answering the holocall was the only reason he wasn't currently having a very sternly worded conversation with Oren.

Kessel.

He had been out to get his new eye surgically implanted and during that time the Jedi had gotten themselves into more hot water in the Galaxy. Already he could feel a headache coming on as he watched the young man on the screen, Emryc Thorne, set out his political and, oddly enough, moral beliefs. Morals tended to be so often absent from politics that seeing someone so openly showing theirs on the holonet was refreshing.

That said moral and political ambitions made sense was more awkward because of what it meant for the reputation of the Jedi Order in the Galaxy. Once again they were taking a huge PR hit.

"Oh he's out? That's fine."

Totally fine.

"What was it about?" he eyed the screen again, staring into the eyes of the man pouring his heart out onto the net, "It was about the charismatic young man on the holonet and his particularly pointed message. You saw it too Darleen? Oh yes I suppose he was a very intense young man but people with righteous convictions do tend to have that kind of tilt to themselves I suppose. No worries Darleen, I'll catch up with Oren later. Make sure you water that plant of yours! Goodnight!"

Hanging up, Max sat back down in the hospital bed he had woken up from his surgery in. The holonet news had been abuzz and he'd seen it almost straight away. It was... well it would be a lie to say it was welcome news but he was happy that there were still people in the Galaxy with enough vision and motivation to be willing to step up for their ideal of a better Galaxy. He could respect that, even if he was already thinking about making a PR department for the Order...

 

[Darth Tiamat]

Eriadu

It had been a nice day out despite the low-hanging clouds, hinting at the possibility of rain in the near future. It wasn't too often where the acolyte had some down time, but her Master had been elsewhere for the time and she didn't want to stay in her quarters all day. Finding a cafe, Lyra had purchased a cup of caf and a sweet bun and took a seat, finding the setting quiet and comfortable. She had brought her work with her and was diligently working through several holo-articles on astronavigation and other space abnormalities when her comm chirped from the latest trending press stories. The holonet was on fire with chatter and there seemed to be some talk from others about it in the cafe.

Lyra nearly had to do a double take as she saw her Master's name trending on the holonet and for a brief moment she thought he had been caught by the FWA or the Jedi. However, she watched the video, speaking about something on the alliance of worlds feeling pushed aside by the FWA. The girl's brow furrowed in her thoughts as she put down the device, noting to herself she would ask him about it. It did not mean she would get an answer, but it would tell him she was at least paying attention.

There was a squeal from a gaggle of teens not too much younger from herself as they were chatting away about how handsome Emryc looked. Lyra frowned and a scowl formed on her face as she looked back at Emryc's still image on her comm; she could feel herself looking for a reason to be annoyed with him, but instead she found herself agreeing that he did look pretty good in a suit, compared to him loafing around in Kravos' armor.

Lyra grinned as she thought about the speech he gave and more than just how he looked, but his gaze and his articulation. A memory recalled his cologne, taking her back to their few moments of closeness. Lyra sighed and then her feelings betrayed her; she grew suddenly self-conscious, her cheeks turned a bright red and she became annoyed with herself. Quickly turning off her comm, she tossed it back into her bag. Internally, she scolded herself for losing track of her work and moved so her back were to others, leaving her to focus on everything else but Emryc Thorne.

 

[Alyse Ti'Varnus]

Planetary Governors Office - Bakur Memorial Building
Bakura

Leaning back against her chair, Alyse sighed as she set her pen down on the desk, before rubbing her oppsing hand against her wrist. Working out the cramps that had built up from what must of been an hour of drafting bills, signing policy papers and working through and generally annotating various papers and governmental contracts. A curious eyebrow arched on her features as the holonet screen flickered into life, indicating that a breaking news broadcast was being pushed to the wall mounted screen. Usually when thus happened it often meant a begrudging amount of additional work to be done, responding to and making assertions that actions will be taken - such had the case been with the recent news that for some reason, Bakuran trade ships had been attacked by pirates.

Yet much to her surprise, this was not a news push of local matters. No this was far more interesting, a familiar face standing behind a podium - speaking ill of the antiquated Republic and Free World Alliance, and thier flawed state of governance over the majority of the Galaxy. A slight grin curling on her lips as she reached for her pack of tabac sticks, at the mention and branding of the Jedi as being Force welding Terrorists. Laying the blame for the unchecked attacks on self governing worlds.

Pursing her lips in thought for a moment as she reached for a lighter. Alyse mused on the potential that Emryc's broadcast could bring to the Galaxy, not just for the promises of action that were being sworn. But also how she could help contribute to the Siths wider manipulation, rallying free independent worlds was one thing - but to have a planet that is part of the Free world Alliance withdraw and align themselves with the newly proposed alliance - Well that could be perhaps the first in the chain of Dominos to fall.

"Perhaps a private discussion with Emryc is in order" Alyse murmured to herself before igniting the end of her tabbacc stick, and inhaling the nicotine laden smoke. Clicking her tongue for a few moments before exhaling, her eyes moving away from the wall mounted screen and out to the capital city beyond her window. "However in the mean time perhaps now is the opportune moment for Bakura to cut its ties with the pretend New Republic" the Sith Lord mused as she sat the tabbacc stick onto the brim of the ashtray before getting to her feet and walking towards the window, arms folding behind her back.

 

[Marissa Hesse]

Establishing a, and Marissa wasn’t given to false modesty, rapidly expanding successful criminal operation in Syndicate and Sith space had taken an immense amount of work and credits. Something that, even with the surprising level of influence she and Preef were quite quickly accumulating, had come off the back of an existing organisation, and their own significant personal planning in the years prior.

What that meant was that, as the news hummed in the background of her Eriadu office, checking shipment details and operational reports, hearing a declaration of Outer Rim government admittedly made her chuckle.

Those worlds had been united few times in galactic history, and often crumbled shortly after except in a few cases. And the work to establish any alliance or organisation of that kind would be sweeping, no doubt about it. Whoever thought they could pull it off was at the very least wildly ambitious. Still, any amount of success on their behalf would shock her. A new player in the Outer Rim was something to keep her eyes on, and exactly what their relationship to the Syndicates would be. Else it was simply another set of regulations to work around. And that was hardly a problem.

Still, a mental note then, one she’d forward to her second later in the day, just in case,

Thorne, make contact? Open file on ‘Independent Alliance’, keep tabs on developments. Either way, don’t be caught sleeping.

 

[Talak Rand]

Kessel was done and Talak had returned to the hospital with more questions than he'd left with. Better than Sullust, much worse than it could have been. More and more he wondered about remaining among the Jedi. Each day brought its own dose of skepticism.

Sitting at Trys's bedside, he watched the images and words play across the holonet screen. News of what was going on in the galaxy only peripherally punctured his thoughts until he heard mention of Jedi, Sith, and the Force.

He focused in on what he heard and frowned. Another politician ready to rush in and condemn Force users and the Jedi. Was there merit to it? That was something for the politicians to debate, wasn't it? He took a deep, exhausted breath and let it out without moving.

At least - if this guy was to be believed - he actually tried to do things to help people, but could you ever really trust anything a politician said? Worthless, the lot of them. He glanced over at Trys, wondering what she would have made of it all. She'd hunted Jedi when they crossed the line - in fact footage of her arrest was even played - but not anymore. It was the Sith that had done this, and that twit was getting on holo condemning the Jedi fighting them.

Neutral worlds is a joke, he grumbled as the man mentioned that the Jedi wanted to drag others into the war. Like the Sith weren't already expanding. Like they wouldn't continue to expand!

He grit his teeth and mumbled some unpleasant curses under his breath.

But then... perhaps that meant there would actually be someone else to ally with against the Sith. Rallying "neutral" worlds to resist Sith takeover? He paused to ponder that for a moment, but it only led to another sigh.

I don't know, Trys, he said, squeezing her hand. And yet there was no response. There never was.

He sat here day in and day out. He held back from what he knew he needed to do to begin to make an impact.

I just don't know, he repeated again.

 

[Zay Kartan]

Zaylos Kartan was halfway though a beer when the broadcast started. He was sitting in his usual spot at the bar in Darry's Den, and the titular Darry, flitted his way.

"Kid, lemme bum a smoke."

Kartan reached into his pocket, eyes fixed on the guy on screen. He pulled out a ratty pack of cigarettes and absently passed one to the toydarian barkeep. He put one between his lips and lit it up offering the lighter to Darry afterwards.

"Thanks," Darry's wings fluttered frantically for a split second lifting his little body up and gingerly placed his posterior on the bar beside Zay.

"You actually watching this?"

"Kinda," replied Zay.

"Eh, fine. It's dead in here anyway," sighed Darry.

Kartan's experience with the galaxy was stunted to say the least, but as the images of violence played on the screen he couldn't help but feel uneasy. He took a sip of his beer as the speaker slammed his fist on the table. Zay's eyebrow cocked as he considered the rallying call the impassioned orator presented.

"What do you think's gonna happen, Darry?"

Darry had busied himself polishing glasses as he watched the end of the broadcast. He looked to Zay and his little shoulders shrugged.

"Who knows. The way I see it, so long as we keep our heads down, this ain't our problem."

Kartan considered that a moment. He wasn't sure he felt the same, but who was he? Six months ago he'd been a slave for a nobody junklord on Lotho Minor. Whatever happened would happen and those who were insignificant would be swept up in the tides whether they wanted to be or not. Darry must have noticed Kartan's consternation because he slid the mechanic a full beer.

"Keep your head down, kid," said Darry with what Kartan assumed was his best attempt at reassurance.

Zay lifted the glass, "Cheers, I'll drink to that, bro."

 

[Vrashinal Karzinkaal]

Vrashinal was lounging in the security office while Zale was in meeting. If there was a real threat, he'd be there but right now others had it covered. "Yeah.. it is their fault.." he looked at the list of meetings, half of them were with Jedi or Rangers. He sighed as he rose to his feet, grabbing his staff. "Captain tell the Senator that I am turning in my resignation. If she drifts from her new friends, I'll return, or if she needs me."

The Captain would nod and with that, Vrash would exit out into the street, activating his comm. "Deeno. Kid, I'm putting together a team and I want you on it. Meet me in independent space, I don't care where."

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Plumes of smoke that drifted from a shipboard work station he'd set up on his yacht were sucked through a newly modified high-power vent. The sounds of soldering, a whirring hydrospanner, and the clinking of metal on metal were superimposed over a particularly bass-y bit of club music. Hannibal was well focused on his task, having been working on it for some days now, and he'd really like to finish it befo-

" HOLONET NEWS, NEW STORY JUS-!!!"

"Gah!" he started, burned his finger, and nearly fell out of his chair as the jacked up ship speaker volume turned from music to a programmed news alert. He was going to need to adjust that program. Hannibal tossed his tools aside with a clatter and turned in the seat toward a screen that now displayed the report. There was a suited-up man on it. Great, ought to be good.

Hannibal listened to the guy speak. He certainly had a lot to say about recent events, including the Kessel "attack". Yeah, that'd gone well. No intel, no good results. Probably broke some kind of record. The young Master considered the choice of words, the expressions the young man on the screen made, the tone, the gestures and way he stood. There was something about him, about his face. About those eyes of his. Hannibal wondered, thinking.

"Why am I always on my ship for these announcements? That's kinda weird." He turned to his probe droid, Ego. "That's totally weird, right?" Ego gave a noncommittal warbling sound in response. Hannibal shrugged and looked back at the screen. It wasn't the most unexpected development. It basically happened every hundred years or so, someone trying to rile up the torches and pitch forks over the scary space wizards and their desire to preserve all life. And who was this Emryc Thorne, anyway? Hannibal had never heard of him before.

He squinted at the screen, sucking on the tip of a lightly scorched thumb. How many handsome, pointy-eared, silver-eyed people were out in the galaxy, really? There were probably at least two, right? Yeah. Besides, the hair was different. There was no way.

Hannibal switched the screen off and turned back to his workbench, quietly pensive. Something was going to have to be done soon. There couldn't be much time left.

He picked up his project he was doing the final touches on. It was about time he got back into the thick of things.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Somewhere out in the galaxy, Morgan was working. The sound of bubbling water, sloshing around the confines of a large hot tub served as a backdrop to a smooth, gentle, jatz-y bit of music. Together they made quite a relaxing atmosphere in the private suite on the top floor of an Eriadu apartment building. Even the view from the window of the city was oddly beautiful without the smog outside ruining it. The bubbles and water-sloshing slowed a little after another moment. Sixty seconds had gone by, it was time.

Iron fingers gloved in supple leather gripped tighter around the neck they'd been wrapped around and pulled, a loud sploosh preceding the reappearance of a middle-aged Twi'lek man from beneath the surface. He choked and sputtered, coughing and trying to breath around his constricted windpipe. Morgan turned to look at him, eyes sharp as gilded daggers and staring with a hawk-like intensity, lips curling back into a malicious and fang-toothed smile.

"So. Codes now?" he asked politely. The man began to try and say something through his sputtering at around the same moment the extra-large screen that took up about half of one of the suite's walls switched to a breaking news announcement, the unmistakable face of Emryc plastered across it, dressed up in a fine suit. And with differently coloured hair. It didn't matter, he'd recognize that face anywhere. Especially the eyes.

"I do- the Twi'lek started before Morgan interrupted him. "Shh! Emryc's on, don't be rude." "Wha- HRRRGlbrrglhrblublublub," the man said as the young Sith shoved his head back beneath the water's surface, adjusted his position on his legs, and turned to look at the screen. A little smile lit up his face as Emryc went through his grand speech and he hummed softly in his throat. He did look really good with a suit on, although Morgan thought to himself it would look significantly better on his bedroom floor.

Somewhere in the middle of the speech Morgan remembered to lift the Twi'lek's head from the water for a few seconds to let him catch his breath and then dunked him back down under, ignoring the renewed but ultimately fruitless flailing of arms.

The announcement was, all told, an excellent go at rabble rousing and manipulation of public perception. Not that most of what he said was entirely wrong. The Jedi had no true borders and the Free Worlds were even helping them from time to time. It was a PR nightmare for both groups. All Emryc had done was point it out and embellish a little bit, maybe doctor some footage. Just like a real politician.

"Tch. Politician boy just doesn't have the same ring to it," he commented with amusement, chuckling softly as the speech ended. Which brought his attention back to the Twi'lek again. Morgan stood from his borrowed leg-chair and pulled the man from the water, lifting him by the neck out of the water and off the floor entirely. Sharp golden eyes stared into another pair full of fear and resignation and not enough oxygen.

"Codes," Morgan insisted icily, and this time the man rattled off a strained string of letters and numbers through his attempts to breath. The Sith nodded in response, the tinge of truth making its way through the waves of fear. "Thank you for your cooperation," he said, then crushed the man's neck in his grip with a sickening crunch of cartilage and dropped him back in the water to die. He turned on his heels to leave, picking up a small briefcase on his way out the door.

"I should call him. Yeah, I'll do that," he decided with a cheerful smile as he stepped into a repulsorlift. He had a feeling there would be more work to do soon.

@Sreeya

 

[Nicolas Clément]

Nicolas Clément was at his office in Chandrila, he was about to call it a night after doing a bunch of paperwork for New Alderaan, he had the holonet news in the background, barely paying attention to it. After shutting off his terminal and about to shut off the holoscreen, he looked at the screen and he saw a Sephi figure wearing and a suit calling out to 'citizens of independent systems'.

The New Alderaan senator stayed and watched the address, he listened to the mans word from the man himself as well as the other footage that was packaged long with it.

If he had to be honest, he can understand the man's resentment and he did have fair points. The footage does look bad for the Jedi, he can't deny that. The Sephi's words also made the FWA look bad too, making it look like they allowed all of this, causing the violence to spill over to worlds uninvolved. He would like to believe in the Jedi, that they are fighting against the Sith and are not causing needless wanton collateral damage fighting the Sith, but the footage didn't paint the best picture of them.

In any case, the Sephi's words would be hard to refute. "So, Emryc Thorne..." he noted the name. He called for an alliance of independent systems. That would be another big power bloc? Maybe it will gain traction, the guy seemed charismatic and might gain traction, which could complicate things. There could be more addresses from Emyrc as well, this being the first of many. Still, Nicolas is a believer in the Free Worlds, but he wouldn't just dismiss Emryc out of turn. He can understand the pain of people caught in the crossfire, people who got hurt or worse, directly or indirectly.

At the same time, any group that has 'Sith' in it's name have no good intentions for the galaxy though, Nicolas knows for sure and they need to be dealt with. But the New Alderaan senator will see about getting in contact with Emryc, and see if there is a way to work towards a solution for this that would be better for the FWA and non-aligned worlds.

Tomorrow he will try reaching out.

 

[Renfry]

Renfry sat sipping her caf and watched the broadcast with a smirk. There was something empowering about knowing things that everyone else didn't know, and when it came to this topic, there was a great deal she knew that others didn't.

He put on a good show, she had to give him that. If she didn't know who he was and what he had done, she would have probably bought into what he said. It was certainly appealing to those Outer Rim worlds and those forgotten by the FWA. The Jedi didn't do anything to help their own situation, and... well, her opinion on them had already been made known.

They'll have no idea what hit them, she muttered. They thought it would be a defense against the Sith... and... it wouldn't, right? The realization that he may well be setting up his own Empire... nahhhh. She pushed the thought aside, but filed it away with all the others. Eternal skepticism.

She patted her hand in a golf-clap type movement as she sat and continued to watch. News anchors began to talk endlessly about everything - who this was, what he wanted, whether anyone would follow him - and Renfry smirked as she was fairly certain they got... everything wrong. People who thought they knew what they were talking about and had absolutely no clue.

She finished off her berry scone, drained her coffee, and stood. Time would tell, but she was sure she had work to do on this exact project.

 

[Yulie]

~Mon Gazza, at a spice den not far from a local docking district~

This establishment was little more than precariously sloped walls hunching over the city's aqueduct like a scab. Water hadn't flowed through the clay siphon in generations, so instead it separated the bar from pillowed booths where dozens traded their hopelessness for chemical euphoria. The stench would cling to Yulie, had this town not an abundance of other foul smells at the ready to overtake it.

Spice dens often employed women to part the patrons of their money in exchange for spice, pipes, and other paraphernalia. For reasons Yulie hadn't solved, soft curves were sometimes better at opening wallets than the addictions that brought people here, so the tips were more lucrative than more honest work in these parts. You just had to be nice to the patrons. Command their gaze with a gentle sway, permit them grab her behind just long enough for them to think they got away with something extra. Five seconds. That was her limit. Then she'd have to weave her fingers between theirs with a smile, and gently return their palms to whatever they actually paid for. If they gave a tip, she might sit beside them or nuzzle shoulders. Bump elbows maybe and giggle, as if they were sharing a secret. But she wasn't here as a slave so she got to decide where the lines were, and that's what made it feel empowering even though it made her die inside.

It was during one of these playful interactions with some teenager (the young tended to crowd these places here, while those who lived more a few winters tended to wither away in their lonesome) when the HoloNet news projected its image upon a stage. It was interrupting a fight so there were many groans of disapproval. Yulie was barely aware of the impassioned speech until her ear caught the word 'Jedi'. It made a sour note when it thudded into her mind, but it lit her imagination. She had only heard stories about them, that it only took one to destroy an empire but they were an entire race. Conquerors without equal. Terrible creatures that tore down countless worlds in a war that set the Galaxy ablaze. And when their consumption of life was at its apex, the greatest army in since the dawn of Time finally cut them down and put an end to their madness. Yet according to the man on the HoloNet, they had endured...but their fury had not.

The footage was captivating. The Jedi flung heavy objects around them with violence so astute that one's mind halted simply by looking at it, yet the Jedi were so fast it didn't even appear they'd moved at all. And their swords! Such majestic power! The hologram was seizing up in its struggle to show the radiance of the Jedi weaponry. Paradoxically, it was also difficult for her to watch. The destruction was seemingly indiscriminate, certainly unprovoked, and it was the everyman holding the shattered pieces of their livelihoods in the Jedi's wake.

Some self-important man was speaking out against them, but who was acting against them? Empty talk. No matter how widely you could pry open a politician's mouth, empty words were all anyone would ever find. They were as opportunistic as half-starved Jawas, and unequaled in self-aggrandizing. Politicians didn't exile the Jedi into the silent Void. Soldiers did.

Yulie looked into the hologram with an empty, baleful stare, barely processing the images or the words emanating behind them. Her initial sense of awe had been stretched so thin that the threads of her thoughts began to tear. Anger seeped through the holes, its vapor intoxicating her senses. If a Jedi were standing among the people in this den, punching down at the folks who had collected here just to flaunt their own unstoppable might, she wouldn't give the Jedi empty words. Defective beam-sword on her waist be damned, she would act.

Then that teenager broke the Five-Second Rule. It pulled her back into the moment. She moved with balletic grace to slink her fingers between his to deftly remove his wandering hand from her hindquarters, but instead of giving her one last squeeze, he yanked the sarong from her hip and pointed wildly at the lightsaber once hidden beneath.

"Jedi! She's a Jedi!! She's one of them!!! She'll destroy us all!!!!" He shouted, leaping from his seat as he clinched her throat with his elbow from behind. What happened next happened quickly. The light of the hologram bathed the tarnished metal of a blaster with sparkling blue light as it was pulled from beneath a leather vest from across the room. Yulie launched herself off the floor, flattening the boy against the ceiling as angry red bolts of energy screamed at the air where she once stood.

Fear tightened her chest when she saw how close they came, and when her fists clenched in surprise, the holo-emitter burst, putting an end to Emryc's vow as it escaped his lips. A shower of sparks rained from above. Screaming filled the spice den. Some of it was in terror, a little was of pain, most of it was in anger and all of that was aimed at her in curses and slurs from several languages.

When she landed, she backhanded a table as she seethed and sent it rocketing across the room towards the gunner. She was using the Force and didn't even know what it was, despite having seen that broadcast with her own eyes. The boy on her back moaned in pain as he rolled off her. She snatched the red cloth from his hand and bolted for the door. What was happening? Why was this happening? Having burst from the weary pockets of her old black pants, her tip money had been scattered on the floor but shots chased her away.

They would follow. Or others. Too many had seen that broadcast, and enough had seen her. Even though their brains were addled with all flavors of spice, tales of a Jedi tearing up the place and pulverizing some poor boy would surely spread. She cursed herself as she disappeared into the fabric of the night, unleashing worse insults at her careless stupidity than anyone in the den had used on her. Condemning herself for allowing witnesses to survive to tell the story. Berating herself for ruining a paying gig, just like she always did.

She despaired. Her earnings were gone. Now all she had were her skills, the clothes on her back, and a fistful of kyber shards to find a way to a new life. The Force was not yet her ally. Whatever machinations of Destiny that the Force had set in motion, her future was most uncertain. Her mind was reeling. I need to get off this planet.

 

[Newton]

The Blackwell droid engineer was with his his astromech droid tinkering with some droids in the lab. He had a protective helmet covering his face and fusion torch in hand. He was making progress modifying a protocol droid into having concealed blades in it's wrists for... reasons. He was deep in concentration. Deep in concentration

"Sir, you should come see this" Newton's assistant protocol droid hurriedly yelled with her feminine voice. And suddenly Newton lost his concentration and this lapse made and causing him inflict needless sorchmarks on the arms. Newton sighed. "What is it now?" Newton got up, and said in an annoyed tone towards L3. Although a helpful secretary for the Blackwell Manager, she does get annoying and on Newton's nerves at times. L3 gestured then Newton to follow to the nearest holoscreen in the lounge. "Come on or you will miss it" Newton rolled his eyes and sighed as he followed.

Newton missed the first part of the boardcast as it was live, but probably soon footage will get on the holonet so he could watch what he missed. Newton did see the part where it shown Rangers Command's destruction and Newton would listen to the rest, raising his eyebrow as he was intrigued. "Interesting...". Newton sat down and began thinking of possibilities. He didn't care about the lives lost or any damage the Jedi did, or the Sephi's mans good intentions. But if the unaligned worlds are united, this would present a good opportunity.

Off the top of his head, if this new alliance of unaligned worlds wants to be able to protect the integrity of their worlds, such a organization and their worlds would need the means to do so. And the mega-corporation Blackwell can provide that, for a price of course.... "L3, monitor this situation closely for me." Newton ordered to his protocal droid. He will have to keep tabs on any more developments on this. This could lead to more clients... and therefore more profit...

 

[Maarik Carthia]

On a remote moisture farm somewhere on Tatooine

It was like a family reunion. Maarik flashed a wide grin as he was embraced by Tobi Moorhil, a bear of a man and the head of the household. He ran a moisture farm that had been in his family for three generations. Tobi was filling Maarik in on the recent expansion he had made to his vaporator fields. He beamed with pride, and Maarik felt his warmth. Next was the birth of his fifth child, a daughter, only four months ago. They clasped hands and embraced again.

"It's wonderful, Tobi. Absolutely brilliant."

Maarik was glad he had arrived when he did. Tobi's new daughter had been delivered by a local midwife and hadn't been examined by anyone since. No one in the family would see a qualified physician if weren't for Maarik making the Moorhil moisture farm part of his regular beat. Regular beat. He hadn't been there for two years, and it would probably be another two after this visit. He tended to all seven members of the Moorhil clan and fielded a variety of complaints. Mrs. Moorhil's arthritis had worsened. One of the three teenage sons presented with a persistent dry cough, it was antibiotics and bed rest for him. Tobi told Maarik that he was strong as a Wookie. His limp said otherwise.

He was offered a bed and supper after his work was finished, just like he always was. He graciously accepted, just like he always did, and Tobi always gave him a lift to his next stop in the morning too. Mrs. Moorhil even cut Maarik's fiery hair while dinner was in the oven, it had nearly reached shoulder length. When the table was set, he joined the family and devoured his bantha steak, and pretended to like the blue milk. No reason to be rude.

Later, Maarik sat outside the homestead with Tobi. They chatted and shared the rest of an old bottle of wine that Tobi kept around for special occasions. A transmitter perched on Tobi's armrest was playing the audio from a holonet news broadcast that had gone live earlier in the day.

"Turn that up, would you?" Maarik asked. The audio crackled and Thorne's voice overpowered their conversation.

Maarik hadn't involved himself directly with the Jedi Order since he was knighted over five years ago. He was privy to the same rumors and whispers that everyone else in the galaxy was about events involving the Jedi. After he caught wind of the recent outbreaks of violence, he thought about abandoning his medical practice and reconnecting with the Jedi establishment. He decided to stay the course after he meditated on it. Thorne's rhetoric was making him reconsider.

"What do you make of it?"

Maarik shrugged at Tobi. "Reminds me of my father." Charisma, passion, opportunism, a platform. In Maarik's experience, it was a dangerous combination.

Maarik asked Tobi to drop him in town in the morning instead of at his next appointment. He was pleased to hear that his old friend knew a man who ran a small export operation and thought that he could get Maarik a good deal on passage to the galactic core.

 

[Corran Velt]

Politicians were often on the holonet all the time. Campaigning to keep or gain positions. Denouncing rivals. Warding off scandals or deflecting them. What played on the screen that hung from the wall in the mass transit terminal on Coruscant was altogether something different. A politician championing an ideal. Corran was waiting for his automated speeder as other denizens came and went around him. A handful stopped to watch the young figure on the screen speak, including him. It must have been a recording of the actual speech as the news ticker provided small snippets of information at the bottom. With arms-crossed, the blond ranger could only scoff. The Sector Rangers had stepped beyond their jurisdiction and attacked worlds? What a joke. Outer Rim planets had to fend for themselves against slavers and pirates and they often lacked the training, organization, or will to do so more often than not. The lieutenant served the Outer Rim, not battled it.

With a huff and a shake of the head, Corran made a turn to leave but was stopped by what the youthful political figure said next. Jedi. All their transgressions laid bare. Whoever the speaker was, his words echoed much of what the ranger felt. Siding with one Force User cult against another was a foolish endeavor. Those two had been battling for centuries and who paid the price? Normal folks. When a Jedi and a Sith dueled, scores of innocents perished for them to clash swords on a burning building. They were two sides of the same coin - equally guilty. Individual Jedi were generally nice people, he found, but they would have been that way without being chained to an extremist organization. "He's right about that," Corran said aloud to no one in particular. "What?" Replied a Bothan businessman standing next to him. Corran tilted his head to one side and clarified without breaking eye contact on the screen, "The Jedi and Sith. Real problems." The Bothan didn't reply to that, but merely hummed in thought.

By the end of the recording, a lot had been urged and not all of it sat well with the lieutenant. The Force User cults were a problem, yes, but the rest of it didn't sit right at first thought. Corran had been born on Commenor, a world with both famous Imperial and Republic figures alike and felt a certain loyalty to the New Republic. It was the closest thing to his beliefs, as raw and unrefined as his political musings were. The Free Worlds Alliance was weak. Far too weak. Mostly a coalition of independent worlds that couldn't even keep a standing military or unified law. Would this... Emryc Thorne's "alliance" be any stronger? Outer Rim peoples were stiff-necked and resistant for a reason. Most insurrections in the galaxy began out there. Hobbling them together to form something would be no easy task, the Sector Ranger reckoned.

The holoscreen flipped back to pundits discussing the speech and that gave permission for Corran to leave. A few stayed to watch but many others went on their way, pondering or shrugging off what they had just seen. Lieutenant Velt, for his part, didn't dabble in the realm of politics much. But if a new figure had appeared that shared his same distrust of the Force cults, well, was that such a bad thing?

 

[Jon Halleck]

Jon had known many a Jedi in his time, and had learned a little of how they saw the world. Light and Dark, right and wrong. He might not understand the Force, but he did understand that. The darkness wasn't something just the Jedi fought, everyone did. And it was an uphill battle at the best of times, which was nothing to say about when you weren't at your best. And Jon, Jon hadn't been his best for a very long time. Corellia had broken him, not physically, psychologically. He had failed to save anyone, and the darkness he had faced that day had never left him.

It was there when he returned to the job, still mostly him, but unable to draw or shoot with the same precision that he had once known. But he had resisted, had found the silver lining. He was still a Ranger, he could still help others, he didn't need a gun to do that.

It was there when he lost his partner, killed during a drug bust. But he had resisted, they had cleaned the streets, laid down the foundation for rehabilitating a decent chunk of Coronet. They knew the risks when they signed up, and what they did was worth the cost.

It was there every time he failed, and every single time he had resisted. Over and over again.

So as Jon sat in the decrepit old bar with a drink in his hands, a weeks worth of stubble covering his jaw and dark shadows lining his eyes, he listened to the man on the holo-news without giving it much thought. He had heard the spiel before, blame the Jedi, blame the rangers. The Jedi, they were there to help. Heck, he was probably alive because of them. "Shut that crap off!" He barked at the droid behind the bar as he downed his drink and pushed himself to his feet. But as he walked out of the bar he wondered. Jedi and Knights of Ren. Jedi and the Eternal. Jedi and Sith. Would any of this have happened without the Jedi and their issues with other Force users?

He had stood by the Jedi, all this time. Once more the darkness returned, only this time it left a crack. The thing about the darkness is, it can wear you down. Every time you fall, it chips away at your core. A small doubt here, a tiny insecurity there. And ultimately, it builds up. And that day, Jon couldn't resist.

 

[Soygun York]

The newly appointed senator for Kattada was sitting back in a deep, plush couch inside his new apartment on Coruscant while enjoying a strong, thick cigar laced with just a tiny bit of spice to give him just a little boost in the buzz department. The apartment was high in the skyline and the senate building, his new place of work, could be seen from his beautiful view. He was catching up on the finishes of the speeder races all over the known galaxy when his sports news was interrupted by a man named Emryc Thorne as "Breaking Holonet News."

York listened carefully to the man's complaints and rants with no emotion at first, idly smoking his cigar. He watched the video, damning video at that, of the Jedi. York fully understood propaganda. He was sure there was likely some context behind the video that was purposefully left out. The Jedi legend came with a certain reputation, and this video didn't exactly fit the narrative. And what's more, this Thorne character made it sound as if the Sith were the passive victims of unwarranted aggression by the Jedi. He called BS on that just on the history of the Senate and the Sith alone. Truth was, however, that Senator York didn't really care what the truth was. In politics, perception was far more important than the truth.

Ah, but this young, charismatic fellow had a recruiting message. Of course, he did. Join him...He was trying to create a federation of independent systems and worlds...which, of course would make them no longer independent. But, he might just get a few takers. And a few takers meant they would have the capabilities to forcefully take a few more. A few more would get "persuaded" to join afterwards, no doubt. The next thing you know, you have several system tied together and being led militarily by this madman.

Soygun sunk deeply in this couch and took a long drag of his cigar before blowing the white smoke out slowly through a perfect circle made by his lips. He laughed quietly and shook his head. Chaos was everywhere. The status quo was being upended and uncertainty was the calling card from one end of the galaxy to the other. It's exactly the political firestorm necessary for the masses to want to put the old leadership and figureheads out to pasture and look to a new, charismatic group of leaders. It's why this Thorne character would likely have some takers. It's why the senate would likely be allowing new, fresh faces to get in on the heavy lifting of policy making and negotiations. It's the firestorm necessary for a new senator like Soygun York to bypass the years of political paying of dues and jump on the lift all the way to the top.

York put the cigar between his lips, but his smile was wide and his teeth could easily be seen on the other side as he laughed out loud for several minutes. The FWA and all of the systems with in it were about to get to know, and love, Soygun York.

 

[Elina Zelle]

Elina had finally made it back to her home on Corellia and more importantly, her not too shabby pad she could actually call home. It was nothing special but it was perfectly her and that was what she exactly wanted. It had been a while since she had returned and she immediately sank into her couch as she let her head go back and rest against the spine. She remained in that position for a few minutes, just soaking in the comfort and the fact of being seated for more than ten minutes. "Oh, I missed this." She had a taste for simple pleasures and this was one of them.

When she had her moment of recalibration, she finally lifted her head with a grunt before turning on the holo and watched the first show that came on. Elina barely lasted a few minutes as her eyes slowly but repeatedly blinked before she just laid down with a thud and let the cushions swallow her in.

Hours passed and it would have been practically pitch black in the room if it wasn't for the projection from the holo. One of Elina's arms and legs hung over the side of the couch as she was out like a light. But the holo let out a score that her sensitive ears couldn't ignore and she opened her eyes unwillingly. Elina slowly turned her head to the right, her eyes half open as she glanced at the screen and found a man walking on stage to a podium. He was barely discernable but his silver eyes came into view for the briefest of seconds. "Emryc..." Elina muttered before turning her head back towards the couch to close her eyes.

But when the weight of the name hit her, her eyes snapped wide open, "Shit! Emryc!?" Elina sat up abruptly and swung her legs over as she faced toward the TV. She wiped her eyes to make sure she was actually witnessing the right person and when she realized her mind wasn't playing tricks on her, her mouth dropped slightly. "Holy kark." It was actually him, speaking more than three sentences and showing his face to the whole galaxy.

Elina's experiences with him were completely different from what she was seeing. She was used to him donned in his armor and barely able to register his voice to anything but monotone. It had been a task to see his real face at all. Shit, the last time they had been near each other, he stuck a knife between her legs and had given her a taste of what he really could do. But as she watched, he spoke elegantly and freely without any hindrance, like he was born for it. Elina never thought he had something like that in him but the more he spoke, the more she was proven wrong. She wondered what part of him was the mask and what part was real.

Their mission together on Tritonite came to her mind and how they helped the councilmen rid the problem of mercs from their planet. Not only was it a launching point for the Sith but how they conducted that mission would also spread good word between the planets in the independent systems. Elina slowly leaned back against her crouch as she crossed her arms over her chest, a smile spread wide across her face, "Shit, you're really doing it, pretty boy."

 

[Preef Callo]

Not unlike Marissa, Preef was sitting in an office on Nar Shaddaa. It was merely a backroom and the most foul-looking type of weequays guarded every square meter with foul looks and the threat of blasterpulling, but it was an office nonetheless. Preef was working on something to draw out Gori Xaa Hafven and his reputation as gunslinger, combined with his success defending Kessel from the Jedi Order, made it easy for him to attract the meanest and baddest scoundrels and enforcers to his cause.

What first attracted his attention was an uproar in the crowded streets of the entertainment district that was always crowded on Nar Shaddaa. "What's that about?" he asked the foul-looking weequay at the door and the latter shrugged at first but then put his head out. The uproar grew louder with the door open and after a few seconds he closed it again..and shrugged. "They yellin' Emryc Throne, king of the rim?" Alright, so the weequay wasn't selected for his intellect. "Something about a holo-address?"

For a moment Preef stared at his underling, wondering if once he'd been this stupid too, but then dispelled the thought and opened up the address on his holo-communicator and pressed 'play from start'. The rodian's first thought was wondering what the kriff Spicelord was doing addressing all independent systems.. but then he listened to the man's words.

About halfway through another weequay came into the office, "Bossman, they say much worlds in tha rim wanting to join the throne." Kreefing Kark, his help really was dumb, but he wasn't lying. Many of the frontier worlds were repeat-victims of the Five Syndicates and often the Jedi and Rangers arrived to stop a current syndicate operation, but failed to realize that the moment they left the syndicates returned to make the locals pay dearly. People were fed up with these Coreworld policemen, acting as if the rest of the galaxy worked according to their values. The frontier wasn't that simple.. there wasn't a luxury to live to some code with moral values and integrity. It was a schutta eat schutta world, no wonder the Hutts ruled these parts. Often a pirate that operated in FWA-space was just a man from the rim trying to feed his family and then the rangers dragged him from his home 'to bring him to justice'. Where is the justice in that? This address made it seem like the ordinary people could take back control of their planet from the Five Syndicates..

Preef watched the whole speech twice. He knew this Emryc Thorne, but he knew him as Spicelord. More importantly he knew him to be a willing participant of the spice trade and he wanted to make sure that Crymorah business would not suffer from this new alliance. Thus, Preef grabbed his datapad and typed up a message.

<<"Emryc Thorne, this is Preef Callo. Let's meet.">> (@Sreeya)