Tabloid "It's like the sky is on fire." Civilians speak out as Chancellor goes clubbing

[Voren Dhur]

"My home was taken out in the first assault by the New Republic, and my daughters died in the second blast. She'd been on a school trip to a museum attached to the nearby airbase, and she never came back. Looking up, it's like the sky is on fire."

~ Streef Haxxam​

Denon, a planet once controlled by the Free World's Alliance, and now under the protection of the Sith Empire, fell under a sustained bombardment by forces of the New Republic earlier this week, with the arriving Republic war-fleet leaving many dead.

The Government of Denon has been unable to confirm the exact number of casualties at this time.

Yet, whilst the focus of many has been on the exploits of the fleets in space, especially with the Sith Empire arriving on the scene soon after, the damage on the ground has been widely ignored. The Hyperlane Herald spoke to many civilians, who live near military and government buildings in planetside, thousands of whom have lost family and friends in the assault.

Chancellor Ro was unavailable for comment, which led to an investigative reporter following the New Republic leader to a nightclub on Coruscant, where they appeared to meet with a young man. Disguised poorly in a robe and a hood, the intergalactic leader and statesman did not escape the notice of clubgoers, many of whom took to social media to share grainy photos of the Chancellor meeting for his late-night rendevous with a figure later identified as a member of the Firrerro species, whilst his navy slaughtered thousands of civilians at Denon.

"It's just beyond words. That the Chancellor is out on the town, whilst his navy commits war crimes, is just staggering. The fact that he appears to have paid for the company of a war refugee, makes this even worse."​

Advocacy groups have been quick to condemn the Chancellor, speaking out against the Leader of the New Republic taking time to go clubbing whilst his Government is at war with the Sith Empire. We shall have more on this story as it develops.

 

[Voren Dhur]

Have you had your home destroyed by a New Republic War Ship? Did you lose a family member when that massive turbo laser blast levelled your house? Well, you may be liable for compensation.

Personal accident and injury claims are very common in the area immediately around Denon and are designed to provide compensation when someone sustains an injury that is not their fault and was instead caused by the negligence of others.

Whilst fleet invasion related claims are the most common type of personal accident or injury claim in the Denon area in the last 24 hours, it’s also possible to make claims for incidents that occurred on public, private and commercial property, for example on Firrerro, for any incident where someone acted negligently and failed in their duty of care.

So what are you waiting for - give Bicker & Bicker a call, today!

 

[Voren Dhur]

An advert begins to play, showing a well dressed Rodian and his a young woman standing before a table.

"Hi, I'm Rooz Snakk and I'm here with Galla who uses Hutta Homes Grime & Lime. So Galla, what do you think?"

"Well Rooz, I use it all over the House, and it's great on limescale. My sink just sparkles!"

A young human runs past, knocking over a bowl. Galla laughs fakely.

"The kids make such a mess, but with Hutta Homes Grime & Lime, I can just wipe the dirt away! There's so much cleaning power, even the toughest job is a doddle!"

Rooz laughs and holds the bottle, turning to face the camera.

"With Hutta Homes Grime & Lime, give it a go. BANG! And the dirt is gone!"

The advert ends, with a price tag of only 2 credits.

 

[Emryc Thorne]

Emryc had been holed up in his temporary apartment in the Outer Rim as he had for the past week or so. He was dressed in a sweatshirt and sweatpants, his appearance beyond frumpy. His hair was disheveled and he was entirely lethargic. The man was virtually unrecognizable in this state, his desire to leave the apartment or do much of anything nonexistent. He had been ordering takeout every single day to where the delivery guy knew ‘Rick’ and that he ordered the same thing every day.

The half Sephi was sitting on the couch with his legs crossed beneath him, eating zoodles from a takeout box WITH A FORK, not those infernal things called chopsticks. In fact, the sight of the wooden chopsticks enraged him so much, they cracked and splintered into pieces, the remnants on the corner table somewhere.

Emryc was watching news briefings as a rare break from watching Huttball reruns. He had seen a tabloid about himself and catching AMS. The sight of it invoked an eye roll and he internally groaned as his name was once again laced with Morata. He felt worse for the woman than he did himself, knowing she likely didn’t appreciate the constant speculations about her love life.

The half Sephi was about to change channels when the next tabloid played out. He was unconcerned about the Chancellor once again being on the news, but his attention was drawn as a Firrerreo was mentioned. His eyes squinted slightly as he watched the report, some of the photos blowing up to show a very familiar face. The pictures didn’t have to be stellar quality for Emryc to recognize that man anywhere.

The zoodles he had been in the middle of slurping unceremoniously plopped down to his lap. Morgan? A gay bar? For a moment it felt as if he had been slammed by an incoming speeder full speed into his chest. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He hadn’t mentally trained for it. He didn’t know how to cope with it. This was all new to him, and it hit him all at once. He couldn’t even focus on the footage or the article, the image engraved into his mind like a forced tattoo.

Trembling fingers moved to finally change the channel before Emryc sat there in complete silence. He stared vacantly at the Huttball screen for a while. Seconds passed. They turned into a full minute.

And then he abruptly grabbed the snack bowl next to him and vomited into it. He heaved a few times before stopping, eyes red and nostrils burning. He was sick to his stomach and his entire body was trembling for a moment. He took in deep breaths and closed his eyes, taking a while to calm himself.

This too would pass. It would be a storm to weather just as he had all the ones before it. Just as he would all the ones after it.

 

[Darth Stolas]

Blending in as best he could beneath neon lights and crowds of others Morgan was once again throwing himself out into the galaxy to escape the dangerous stillness waiting for him inside the Voyager. Acrid smoke drifted in myriad colours through air that smelled of strong drink, cigarra, spice, sweat from dancers and coppery blood from fistfights at a far side. Bass boom, shaking with wild abandon walls and people within their confines.

Morgan was sure he hadn't come back to this place in the seedy depths of Bespin on purpose, but there he was all the same. He drank fire and licked tabs from slender fingers until convinced it was all just for fun. That he wasn't seeking some way to return to cloud nine. Convinced the way he bent like windswept reeds away from others who stood too close was just part of how he danced, nothing deeper.

Mind fogged beyond thought or cohesive concepts his feet took him unsteadily to the bar when he found his glass was empty again. Goldens passed the news playing on a dingy holoscreen behind the Devaronian bartender while Morgan vaguely ordered something with kick to it for the who-knows-how-many-nth time.

"...-o seeing this, man?" He blinked to awareness, the bartender's voice calling his attention. Had he been speaking to him? Morgan looked at him bemusedly. "Whoda thought the Chancellor had it in 'im, eh?" "Huh?" The Devaronian's head nodded to the ignored screen and golden eyes followed automatically to find a flashing tabloid headline.

There was a cloaked figure and a young man at a bar blending in beneath neon light and crowds of others. Morgan squinted at the screen to read the captions as they flashed by and tried to focus. Late night rendezvous with a Firrerrreo war refugee? The Chancellor? Wait...

That was Morgan shown on in grainy photographs. He recognized that specific bar. And the moment his fogged thoughts came together exactly the way he didn't want them to his breath began to quicken with widened eyes. The new drink in his hand dropped from slackened fingers, clattering off the bar to crack and spill its contents on the filthy floor. His heartbeat drummed louder than the bass, each breath was a hurricane in his ears. A new tingling coursed its way across his limbs and left them feeling numb.

"Hey, dude, you 'aight?" asked a voice that seemed a thousand miles away.

A flash of favoured colour spilled across swimming vision and abruptly Morgan was running. Across the dance floor, through the masses, past the fights, and out the door. Down a trash-strewn alley, down the street, running until he couldn't run any longer.

Panting heavily he sank onto a lonely bench and his datapad in hand. Golden eyes stared blanky at the text window Morgan opened without thinking, a blinking vertical bar daring him onward. Skin silvered deeply and muscle around his eyes tightened.

Morgan internally insisted that Emryc was probably okay despite hearing he'd gone off radar. Despite the rumours he could be badly ill or hiding away. Denied desires to cook meals and soup for sick soldier boys. Emryc wasn't the 'jealous type' and it was his idea to be apart in the first place. He'd burned home away and ended things. Morgan wasn't unbelievably angry or hurt. Morgan didn't want to call him and rush to his side, he wasn't going to cry again. Emryc didn't want to see or hear from him.

There weren't any rules or boundaries to break and thinking about what he'd done didn't make him feel horrible or filled with loathing. At least that's what Morgan tried telling himself over and over while he struggled to breath, shaking uncontrollably in the dark.

 

[Darth Tiamat]

"Huh...give them enough rope and they'll hang themselves I guess..." Tiamat mumbled to herself while she continued to fill out the paperwork to place patents on her research and the technology it has produced. It was absolutely more thrilling to solve the questions, but the legal side of ensuring it will stay under her name was a bit dry and time-consuming. It would have been easier if a droid could fill it out, but they had made it impossible for droid to know specific information regarding her tech.

Her holopad continued, the reporter furthering the news of the Chancellor was at a nightclub after giving orders for Denon. The woman's eyebrows rose, finding the situation humorous and well deserved for the FWA and the Republic. It wasn't normally that Tiamat cared until she heard them mention the clubbing rendezvous was with a Firrerro. She thought ironically that it were Morgan and chuckled to herself about, pausing as she looked up to see the grainy photos.

Her face turned ghastly white to where her droid whistled something in response to make sure its owner was feeling ok. "Daaaammmnnnnnn, I guess that's one way to mourn..." she laughed and picked up her comm to send Renfry a message with the article, which read as in a series of emojis:

Hopefully, Renfry would understand.

 

[Renfry]

Renfry opened the message from Tiamat on her phone and her face immediately contorted into twisted confusion. What was this supposed to be? Was this some secret code?

Big surprise about sparkly boys and stars? She was fairly sure that the bottom row was a proposal for the pair to have a wine date, which sounded like a plan.

"" she replied in the text before opening the article and beginning to read. Her eyes went wide and her jaw dropped a little. This was not what she was expecting. She zoomed in on the picture of the "Firrerreo" and fuzzy as it was, she recognized it. She just knew who it was and she was... well, she wasn't sure what she was feeling.

She couldn't decide if she should be angry that Morgan was already out dating someone else or completely unsurprised. After all, she'd said to Tia that she couldn't picture Emryc in a monogamous relationship, and it appeared he'd moved right along from there. Typical. She shook her head and her mouth twisted up into an expression that was difficult to describe.

She'd remembered being worried and jealous about Morgan and Emryc, but now it seemed that he'd moved right along. Guess I worried for nothing, she thought, though she knew it wasn't true. Morgan had tried to force others out of Emryc's life. Didn't work out in the end.

She put together another text message: ""

@GABA