#Consular-class cruiser

[sw5w]

Entering the Naboo System

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:01:54

Route of the Radiant VII from Coruscant to Naboo.

Location of Naboo system within the Chommell sector and the Galaxy at large.

MOVIE: Episode I - The Phantom Menace TIME: 32 BBY LOCATIONS: Alui, Chommell sector, Colonies, Corellian Run, Core Worlds, Coruscant, Deep Core, Denon, Enarc, Enarc Run, Expansion Region, Hutt Space, Hydian Way, Inner Rim, Iskin sector, Karlinus, Mid Rim, Naboo, Naboo system, Outer Rim Territories, Pax, Quess sector, Unknown Regions, Vilonis sector, Vish sector, Western Reaches, Wild Space ORGANIZATIONS: Galactic Republic, Judicial Forces VEHICLES AND VESSELS: Consular-class cruiser, Radiant VII, Republic cruiser TECHNOLOGY: class 2 Longe Voltrans tri-arc CD-3.2 hyperdrive unit

[gonkys-database]

You Talk Too Much

Authors note: Sneaky hand jobs in the Marauder cockpit

Summary: Tech talks too much. You can fix that (set before Season 1)

Relationship: Tech/GN!Reader (no pronouns)

Warnings: hand jobs, soft dom reader, soft sub Tech, getting naughty in the cockpit, Tech is a nerd for ships

Words: 1832

He was cute, in a way you never quite thought ship schematics could be. For all his battles, for all his knowledge as a clone, yet still managing to find the little pieces of awe and wonder in the neighbouring ships on docking platforms.

Hunter's orders were clear;

Stay behind and watch the Marauder with Tech. The rest would head into the HUBworld for supplies and procurement. Call if anything happens.

"That is a Consular-class cruiser! With a modified engine! Certainly not legal from the thruster count or-Oh! That is a refurbished Rho-class shuttle." Tech tittered from the command chair beside you, fingers a flurry of movement over the console to bring up the schematics on file to compare their neighbours ships against, zooming in and out as he went.

"Has anyone ever told you, that you talk to much?" You ask, hardly meaning it in a cruel way from how you relax in your seat, chin propped on a fist as you watch him zip between holograms like a child on Christmas with a new toy. 

"Frequently, actually" Is all you get back, Tech leaning forwards as a ship banked overhead to a nearby platform, name rather incomprehensible at how quickly it is muffled by the soft hum of the next hologram activating and the clone right into his next little chatter of pros and cons to its current upgrades.

Hunter said they'd be back within the hour ... You'd have plenty of time.

"And, how often have they done something about it?" You ask next, a boot coming over to the arm rest to hook the tow behind, gently spinning the engineer around to face you, lacing your fingers together over your knee to regard him.

"... I am not sure I follow?" Oh, bless him. Brains of the mission, clueless outside it.

"I am flirting, Tech" You can't help but chuckle as you see the little lightbulb blink on above his head, and hands slowly pull his lenses down over his face. 

"Oh. Oh, I see  ... Apologies" Well, the glasses might hide his blazing cheeks, but his ears are certainly that 'Bad Batch' signature red. Cute.

"... I can go keep watch outside. Don't worry about it" You offer at the way the cockpit fizzles into silence, Tech in some state of probable rebooting. You'd volunteer to help out wherever Tech wasn't if it causes any tension later. Blame confined spaces and good company. 

Pushing up from your chair with a grunt, a roll of shoulders at how close quarters this ship can be but its ... quaint, you decide as you turn to step down from the cockpit only to turn at a sharp little 'Wait!' behind you. A noise that you ever so slowly turn around to regard Tech about, a brow raised expectantly for the rest. He's spun completely around to face you, even if he can't seem to hold eye contact for a moment before his hands become the most interesting thing in the ship and bothered by imaginary lint or a fascinating scuff he hadn't noticed before.

"Uh, no. That, that won't be necessary" Tech murmurs, gaze constantly flicking up to and away from you behind his little lenses as he fidgets, slowly flicking through holograms as he finds his words. "I'm, uh ... I like that you listen to me?"

"Do the others not?"

"Not always. Echo, occasionally, but mostly, no?" 

"That is a shame. You have a nice voice" You hum, stepping back up into the cockpit and moving to take a seat once again. Tech was in the biggest one, and he certainly didn't take up much of it. It was far too easy to rest a knee between those twiggy thighs and brace an arm above his head on the backrest. "I wouldn't mind hearing a little more of it. What about that one? With the gold?"

"We ... Aren't facing the window"

"Good. I'd hate to share my view. Besides, you've seen every ship that has landed here since we arrived. I don't think you need to see it to know which one I mean." You purr, hand curling under his chin to tip it up to you, not about to let him hide that sweet little face.

"I-It's a H-2. Executive shuttle. Mostly for officials or diplomats" Tech whines, finger still curled under that gorgeous chin and thumb sweeping over that plush little lip before pulling him up for a sharp kiss. They weren't machines, even genetically modified and created humans were still humans. And even lab grown humans had reactions and needs. 

And this one was certainly needy.

"As I said, nice voice" You smirk, letting go of his chin to lean backwards, admiring how little it has taken to undo him. His grip on the arm rests likely will leave dents for the next occupant, he's flushed crimson down that markable throat into the collar of his blacks, and panting softly at getting enough space back to breathe again.

"First time on the ship. ... Or?" Oh, you could have quite a bit of fun based on the answer. 

"N-No, there is a bar. Coruscant. Back rooms... Supply closet" Comes the breathless answer, lean legs shifting under you as the engineer gets a little more comfortable, hands lifting to tug at his blacks collar to let a little more cooler air down there. Was ... Was it this hot in the cockpit, or just him? The thermal regulator says it was comfortable, but it felt like Mustafar up here!

"Good to know. And the blue and white ship?" You ask, noticing how he seems to fuss with the neckline of his blacks and decide it would be ever so cruel not to help him out a bit. 

Fingers curling under the hem of his blacks at the waist, carefully helping raise the fabric up and over his head, mindful of the lenses before pushing the fabric backwards over the backrest of the chair, arms stuck in the tight fabric to the upper arm, tugging faintly at his sudden restraints. Someone's headband would have been rather convenient, but one could always make do with their surroundings. Besides, he wouldn't damage the arm rests or his blacks worrying at them like this. It was quite cute to watch muscles tense and flex either side of his head as he tested how much flex and give he had. Not a lot.

Not that he'd have much thought process to set aside for testing his binds, tipping that chin up again for a graze of teeth along that flushed throat, trailing knuckles down a toned little abdomen to another hem, and resting over fabric to give a soft squeeze and tracing little patterns into the mesh. Oh, that hitch and groan above your ear was delightful, lenses pressing to your shoulder as his head tips forwards, and each little pant as you brush over somewhere sensitive is divine.

"It's a ... its ... ah" He's trembling, from the way the chair creaks at him pushing backwards to arch up, arms flexing in their confines unsure if he wants to hang on for dear life or push you backwards, but if he wasn't pink before he was now. He'd make the Emperial flag envious with his current shade.

"Its a ... what??" You croon, brushing the back of your fingers over the mesh beneath you, dancing nails up and down those quaking thighs and listening to the hitched inhales into your shoulder with each margin of fabric explored. The breathless moan into your neck at your hand slipping under the hem and fingers curling around him was probably the most vocal he's been tonight since you took a seat. 

He's sensitive. 

Understandably so, with a life under armour. Any and all registry to the brain would be armour plates shifting, the blacks doing most of the work as dampeners to the skin so, one could hardly blame him for the hitched keen as you start to move certainly checks out. Thumb tracing little circles over the head with each idle stroke, settling back on your knees to watch Tech.

He's beautiful; Head lolled to the side, flushed skin spreading along his chest and stomach, arms flexing where his hands likely fisted and strained at the sensory feedback, unable to help every moan and pant to escape his lips as you slide your hand along him, squeezing as you move downward if only to watch his expression as hips buck up towards you.

"... What was that?"

"Please" He whines, head tipping backward to thunk against the headrest as you squeeze again, legs shifting under you as booted heels dig into the flooring to push more of himself up to meet you.

"Good boy" You murmur, pleased even in his current state that Tech still has his manners. Even if it would have been cute to teach him some, how could you deny such a pleasant request? 

You catch him by the lips again, cornering every hiccup and moan against your lips as you find a pace that has him shaking and arching up against you, heels squeaking against the cockpit floor on ever press and downward stroke until he's silent. 

Lips parted in little rabbit breaths, hips bucking as he curls forward into your shoulder, seat creaking as arms strain to come forwards, and the little sound as warmth floods your hand is addicting. 

Twitching in your hand as he breaks, hot breaths ghost your neck as he sucks in desperate little breaths, and you love the way his body seems to convulse as you gently slide your thumb back and forth over the slick head. 

Just in time, that is the crew entering the spaceport again, over the headrest of the chair. You've got a few minutes before they'd reach the boarding ramp.

A soft little brush of lips to his throat, making a nice little mark against his collar bone as you help unhook his blacks from over the headrest, and you're freeing his arms from it as you rock back onto your feet, running the fabric through your fingers to toss over by their apparent 'laundry' section of the mess they called belongings as he slumps against you, starting to get lights on behind his eyes as he apparently takes a moment to reboot himself into a post orgasmic version of Tech... Its sweet. 

You've never seen that goofy little smile before. You could almost assume him drunk were it not for their location and the last hour in landing.

"Can you stand? .............. A grunt is not an answer, Ships. Can you stand?"

"I do believe so?" Comes the soft little wheeze the second time around, curling an arm under his arm to haul him up onto wobbly little legs with a comforting pat to clad little cheeks, guiding him down that step into the main galley and leaning in the doorway. 

"Hunter's stepped onto the platform, so we have about  .. eh, two minutes for you to put some new blacks on. Can't let the crew know you're actually fun" You grin.

"I'm always fun" Comes the little retort from somewhere near the bunks, storage lids clacking open and closed from around the corner in mission objective of right sized blacks. Perks of everyone aside Wrecker being somewhat like-sized? You could raid ‘wardrobes’.

"Course you are, Ships"

[lonewolflupe]

aLoF Ficlet | Lupe Of Lothal

Here's Lupe's origin story (OR a one-shot about Plo Koon stumbling upon a Force-sensitive youngling). I'm sorry about the lack of conversation in this one, but I really tried to paint a picture of the surroundings and the atmosphere (thus this ficlet doubled the size I intended it to be).

Note: since this ficlet takes place in 40 BBY, Plo Koon is still a Jedi Knight ("By 33 BBY, Koon had achieved the rank of Jedi Master and was elevated to the Jedi High Council." Source: Wookieepedia).

Summary: Jedi Knight Plo Koon investigates a report and stumbles on an unexpected discovery. Rating: Teen and up Tags: Force connection, Force sensitivity, reference to abandonment Words: 1.954k Characters: Plo Koon, Lupe (OC), unidentified captain/flight crew, unidentified villagers aLoF masterlist | AO3 ↓ | > ch1

40 BBY, Outer Rim | Lothal

“Sir, incoming transmission from the Jedi Temple,” the captain informed the Jedi Knight, looking over his shoulder whilst addressing him. The Kel Dor Jedi stood in the Republic Cruiser’s cockpit, a few steps behind the pilots’ seats, as he gazed through the transparisteel viewport. When he heard the captain’s words, he stepped forward and gently placed his four-fingered hand on his shoulder. “Put it through,” the Jedi’s resonant voice replied, a slight buzzing sound to it, caused by the antiox breath mask adorning his face.

“Plo Koon,” the voice over the transmission started, “Are you still present in the Calamari Sector?” The Jedi Knight confirmed their current position, before the voice continued the transmission. “A report was made about the increasing harassment by creatures on settlements, coming from the Lothal System. Sending the coordinates right now.” A quick nod from the captain to let the Jedi Knight know they had received the coordinates; the navigator went to work immediately. “Since you are already located near the system, could you investigate the report?”

And of course Plo Koon accepted the request. There were always more sides to a story, and if he could avoid the loss of innocent lives, either being sentient or non-sentient, he would try to find a humane solution. After all, that was the Jedi way; emphasising compassion and teaching that all lives were precious. And so the Consular-class space cruiser set course to the planet of Lothal.

Once they had made it to the planet’s surface and the Jedi had started to ask around, it hadn’t taken Plo Koon long to find one of the affected locations. They had left urban civilization behind and continued their endeavour towards a rural area. Wrapped in his cloak to shield him from the emerging gusts of wind, he walked from the ship towards the farming settlement. It was surrounded by grasslands as far as the eye could see. It was a soothing view, and by the sight of it, nothing seemed to be amiss.

A flock of prairie-fowl scattered before his feet when Plo Koon reached the settlement’s only road, connecting the few houses the place consisted of. It was quiet outside; he only noticed a Gotal at the other side of the hamlet. The humanoid was bundling together a bale of cut grass, next to a modest corral containing a small herd of nerfs. The Gotal looked up warily when he noticed the Jedi’s presence. Plo Koon approached him cautiously, calmly stating the reason for his arrival. The distinctive short, grey fur on the man’s face surrounded a pair of weary eyes.

Their brief conversation revealed much to the Jedi. Recently, a pair of creatures had started terrorising the normally quiet hamlet. There hadn’t been any casualties; neither the inhabitants nor their livestock had been touched. Instead, the creatures had been taking rather peculiar items from the small village. There had been much debate over the identification of the creatures, but most rumours came back to one species: Loth-wolves.

With his long, taloned fingers, Plo Koon stroked the mask on his face as he stood pondering over his findings. Whilst Loth-wolves had been a problem to Lothal’s earlier farmers, no one had encountered any in nearly a century; they were deemed extinct. The Gotal pointed towards one of the hamlet’s houses, telling the Jedi the home’s resident could tell him more. Plo Koon thanked the man for his time before leaving him to his businesses.

After he had knocked on the door, it took a while before it slid open. Behind it stood an elderly Ithorian lady, her bend back in combination with her angled neck making for an eccentric appearance. She was wearing a somewhat primitive, timeworn translator collar on top of her neck. Plo Koon introduced himself and told her about his earlier conversation with the Gotal. The lady invited him inside, which he accepted so he could get to the bottom of this. She offered him something to drink, which he refused, because he didn’t want her to make any physical effort on his behalf.

Ithorians were known for their long lifespan, and the elderly lady in front of the Jedi was proof of it. She sat down in an old rocking chair, moving back and forth, concurrently with her memories. She told him about her younger days, how she grew up on the plains of Lothal, in a time when Loth-wolves were still an occasional sighting. She told him how the magnificent beasts had rarely ventured out of the Lothalian mountains and the enclosing grasslands, but that they had been slain anyway, out of ignorance and crudeness. Plo Koon could feel a mixture of grace and sorrow as the lady told him about the creatures, reminiscent of a bygone time.

Before continuing his investigation, Plo Koon kneeled down beside the Ithorian to thank her for her honesty and for sharing her memories. Before he could get back on his feet, the lady put her hand on his shoulder and seemed to be looking straight through his goggles. Crackling through her translator came the redeeming words: she had seen the Loth-wolves as a maiden, as a mother, and now, as a crone. She was certain of it; the Loth-wolves had never been away.

Plo Koon let the words sink in as he strolled to the far side of the hamlet. When he reached the last house, he sat down on a crate and let his gaze wander over the vast plains ahead. The gusting wind had died down; only a faint breeze remained. It played with the tall grass, gently brushing it whenever it reached down to the surface. Slowly, the sun set in the distance, and the presence of the twin moons became evident. Where the sun had shone a golden light over the grass, the moons’ light changed it into a velvety silver. There was a serenity to this place; a tranquillity he could only obtain by meditating back in the Jedi Temple.

He closed his eyes, taking in this strange place that felt oddly familiar. A cold blanket crept over the grassland as the night came, and when it reached the Jedi, every exhalation resulted in a small, foggy cloud in front of his breath mask. He felt the coldness creep inside his body, pricking his skin, tickling his senses as they enhanced. He could hear the friction of feathers as the prairie-fowl huddled together to keep warm. He could see the loth-rats nestling in their holes below the grassy surface. He could taste the dew as it formed on the tall grass all around him. He could smell the resin from a faraway spine tree as it dripped down its bark. He could feel..

Suddenly, he could feel their presence. He knew they were right in front of him before he opened his eyes. When he did, he looked upon two magnificent Loth-wolves, towering above him. Both wolves had black fur and were accented with dark, scaly skin, laying in patterns on their face, their feet and their croup, almost like reversed fingerprints. Their bright, amber eyes looked calmly down at him, waiting.

Plo Koon gently arose from the crate, and with a slow motion, almost like a wave, he reached one hand towards the wolf nearest to him. The wolf showed its teeth, but not in a threatening way; it merely tasted the air, the atmosphere. When the Kel Dor’s four-fingered hand was near, the wolf gently moved its head forward, nudging it into the Jedi’s touch. Plo Koon felt a strange sensation deep within, as if they shared something ancient, as if a connection was being made. The wolves seemed content; yes, this was the one they had been waiting for.

The Loth-wolf lay down and looked at the Jedi in anticipation. Without the need to share any spoken words, Plo Koon understood the wolf’s intentions. He walked over to the beast and carefully mounted it. His fingers grasped around tufts of its black fur; tightly enough to keep himself balanced, but gently enough to not bother the creature. As soon as it was back on its feet, both the Loth-wolves turned around and started running. They ran through the tall grass, away from the hamlet, onto the vast, open plains. Plo Koon moved along with the rhythm of the wolf’s movements, gazing into the distance to set eyes on their destination, but there was nothing to be seen. Nothing..

He was dreaming. The stars surrounded him; not just from above, but all around him. Glimpses of his past, memories from long ago. Voices of parental figures, of teachers and mentors, words of wisdom and knowledge descending onto him. Images of former events.. Or visions of future matters? He didn’t know. It felt like he was floating in space, between worlds. Was this really a dream?

Plo Koon woke up at dawn and found himself on the rocky foot of a mountain. It felt like he was waking from a very deep, intense slumber; nothing he had ever experienced before. When he heaved himself up and looked around, the Loth-wolves were nowhere to be seen. When he was taking in these new surroundings, a peculiar sound caught his attention. It was the sound of subdued howling. As he turned into the direction of the sound, his eyes caught a cave entrance not far away. He walked over cautiously, and when he peeked inside, he expected a Loth-wolf pup.

But what he found inside was a different kind of pup; it was a human child. A female, about two years old, her feral, silver hair quite distinctive for a juvenile of the human species. There was dirt smeared all over her skin and she was wearing rags, but furthermore, she seemed healthy. Around her, scattered through the cave, the Jedi noticed the peculiar items that had been taken from the hamlet, such as toys, pieces of clothing, a mug and plate, and remains of fruits and vegetables. He now understood why the Loth-wolves had ventured into the affected settlements.

The child looked up at him, her eyes wide with curiosity and anticipation. There was no sign of fear or restraint. Plo Koon slowly moved forward, kneeling in front of the child and gently offering his hand to her. She took one of his taloned-fingers in her hand, still looking up towards his goggles, his eyes hidden behind them. As soon as their skins touched, he felt a connection. In an instant, he knew what he was already expecting; she was Force-sensitive. “Koh-to-yah, little one,” Plo Koon greeted the child softly, and he noticed a flicker in her eyes. They were as brightly amber as those of the Loth-wolves.

…

When Plo Koon walked out of the cave, the child on his arm, the Loth-wolves had returned. They were waiting for them outside. The Jedi threaded carefully, since he was now carrying their pup, the child they had clearly been taking care of. But the wolves remained at ease, watching the Jedi and the youngling in full anticipation; they had brought Plo Koon to the child with a purpose, after all. He slowly walked past them, thanking them for their compassion and their aid. The child flung herself over his shoulder, watching the wolves as he walked off into the tall grass. As soon as the Jedi had activated the transmitter on his comlink, ready for a pick-up from the Republic Cruiser, an eerie sound behind him caught him off guard. It was the hauntingly beautiful howling of the Loth-wolves, an echoing goodbye song for the child they had cared for. They had now granted him the responsibility of that care.

I read a theory on Reddit stating that Loth-wolves are/carrying the spirits of Jedi that died on Lothal. Plo Koon didn’t die on Lothal obviously, but I like to think he connected with the creatures during this little story, thus making a ‘new’ Loth-wolf appear after his unfortunate demise during Order 66.

[deoxyribovoltaic-acid]

THE BUILD IS COMPLETE!

UCS Venator: 5374 pieces

UCS Venator MOC Addons: 1309 pieces

Total: 6683 pieces

MOC addons include:

- 2 Arquitens-Class Cruisers

- 1 Pelta-Class Frigate

- 2 Gozanti-Class Starships

- 1 Consular-Class Frigate

- 6 V-19 Torrent Starfighters

- 4(5) Republic Gunships

- 4 Y-Wing Bombers

- 1 Republic Stealth Craft

- 1 Republic Attack Shuttle

- The Twilight

- Anakin and Obi Wan’s Jedi Starfighters

Stand Pieces

- 8 Transparent Stands (multiple pieces)

- 3 Transparent horizontal stands (multiple pieces)

- 25 Transparent 1x1 Round Bricks

- 6 Transparent Handles w/ Stud

- 12 Transparent Stick Aerials

- 12 Transparent 3x3 Satellite Dishes

[thegrievousone]

The Republic's Navy Post-Christophsis (22 BBY)

The Battle of Christophsis was a game changer for the Republic as they not only saw a victory over Admiral Trench, but it also saw the debut of the Venator-Class Star Destroyer. Although the war was far from over, it showed that the Republic could fight back.

Now for the changes to the Navy.

1. The Consular-Class Cruiser got a retrofit called the Charger C70, allowing them to be much more widely used in the war.

2. The Anti-Starfighter variant of the Carrack-Class Light Crusier Became obsolete as the Venator came on the scene, leading to many standing by as reserves.

3. Ventaor-Class Star Destroyers: Gave the Republic a Capital Ship to rival the Providence. It also gave the Republic more Starfighters to use in combat.

4. BTL-B Y-Wing Starfighter: Became the go-to bomber for the Republic and was assuredly reliable.

Now on to the fleets:

1.Defence:

2.Quick Reaction:

3.Invasion:

4.Superiority:

5.Escort:

[mid-nighttiger]

why does star wars need to call all their ships 'cruisers'? how are people supposed to know if i am talking about consular-class space cruisers are venator-class star destroyers if these two vastly different ships are both colloquially known as 'cruisers'?

[oh-no-eu-didnt]

Consular-class cruisers were a line of Corellian starships used across the galaxy. Popular with the Republic as a diplomatic transport, Consulars found use during the Clone Wars after being retrofitted for combat. Although usually unarmed, they were easily modified and possessed hyperdrive and shielding. They required a crew of nine and could carry up to sixteen passengers, depending on configuration.

Source: The New Essential Guide to Vehicles and Vessels (Art: Ian Fullwood; 2003)

First Appearance: Star Wars: Episode I The Phantom Menace (1999)

[regnatior]

─ @vagasbonds ⟋ omega .

maroon,   crimson ﹠.    burgundy   spreading,   fiery-patchwork   saturating   forward   viewports   of   the   consular   -   class   cruiser;   deep   sanguine   terrain   contrasting   with   silver   -   coated   mountains.   ❛   landing   coordinates   coming   in.   ❜   there   was   something   sharp   yet   infinitely   calm   (   *   in control   )   in   his   voice   as   words   rolled   down   his   tongue.   maybe   obi   -   wan’s   serenity   ﹠.   duty   -   driven   tutelage   was   finally   attaining   ideal levels   of   fruition   (   or   maybe   his   former master’s   teachings   were   now   an   intrinsic   part   of   his   being;   wearing   duty   like   a   cloak,   and   it   shrouded   him   so,   sharpening   the   lines   of   what   he   was. )   irises   traveled   from   numerous   display   screens to   the   unique   other   passenger   by   his   side,   slightly   swiveling to   face   young   assistant   as   soon   as   proper   landing procedure   had   been   completed.   ❛   alright,   let’s   hope   you   can speak   xi   char   as   fluently   as   you   claim.   ❜   corners   of   rims   ever   so   slightly   curled   into   shadow   of   a   smile,   cybernetic   fingers   reaching   to   activate   ramp   deployment.

[rainofaugustsith]

More on the Shadow of Revan Rush: As much as I'm stressed about running characters through SoR so quickly, some of the class side stories are so interesting and it's good to revisit them.

SPOILERS FOR TROOPER AND JEDI CONSULAR STORIES IN GENERAL, and their missions in Shadow of Revan

The trooper. OMG. The trooper's side story on Rishi is so cathartic. Keilla hated General Garza from the time she told her to kill civilians who had been experimented on, on Coruscant. From there, to learning about how Havoc Squad Prior had been abandoned...yeah. Being able to call Garza out about what she did to Eclipse Squad, and then tell her "you are a horrible person, I hope you get sent to prison and I will testify against you in a heartbeat" really felt good.

Captions

Keilla: Now two hundred people have died? This has to stop. You have to stop.

Keilla: Frankly General, you deserve a lot worse than what you'll get from the Senate.

Interesting thing, the end of SoR actually falls in line with my headcanon for Keilla, more or less - except Keilla's 'vacation' is permanent. After she assists in the evacuation of Makeb, she vanishes and moves to Kaon, outside of both Republic and Imperial reach.

Keilla: Maybe I'll just disappear for a bit. Surely the Republic an get by without me for a little while.

And the Jedi Consular...ooh la la. Master O'a very casually mentions Felix dying (when he's sitting right there very awkwardly listening) and some of the stuff that comes up in the Consular's visions is in line with not only KOTFE/KOTET but Onslaught and Echoes. He mentions a group outside the Jedi. And "betrayer of Balmorra"...well, you can choose not to save the president of Balmorra in KOTFE, and there's that mission they just mentioned in the latest story snippet, set on Balmorra. Frankly I don't think you even need to be a saboteur for that to apply. I think Zenith will be furious with any JC who has a good relationship with Lana and the other Imperials on the Alliance base or was even civil to Acina's Empire during KOTET, and consider that a betrayal.

Master Kutri O'a: You already have many titles: Jedi Master, Barsen'thor, Herald. You could bear others. Seneschal, Hierophant of the Jai Shey, Betrayer of Balmorra.

Servant One: The Hand closes. The rejuvenation begins.

Moff Pyron: Targeting Republic battle cruisers.

Master Kutri O'a: Now, there is a place sacred to the Rishii. Build a fire from the reeds there and we will proceed.

What else? I really like this tree in the Blood Hunt flashpoint. This whole yard with the blue lights and the night sky is actually really pretty.

And I hadn't noticed before but in Blood Hunt, if you mouse over the banners in the 'arena,' it gives you the name of the gold NPC you have to defeat in that particular room.

[blufanfictionthings]

Selfish

This isn't beta’d. I wrote this a while ago and was unsure if I wanted to post it; but I'm feeling brave... I also suck at summaries so I'm just going to get into it.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You weren’t a selfish person. But watching your boyfriend celebrate the ending of the galactic war with Finn, you felt Selfish. You had seen it from the moment Poe had reunited with Finn after the Battle of Takodana. Poe and Finn were perfect for each other, you knew it the moment they told the story over drinks after saving Rey from the First Order. But yet it was your bed you dragged a drunken Poe too.

But now watching the duo celebrate with Rose and Rey you knew that you were being selfish, keeping him close when it was clear where he belonged.

“You alright?” Lieutenant Connix asked as she set a drink in front of you.

“I feel like I’m losing everyone.” You explained taking the shot, “First the people who raised me, then Poe.”

Connix looked over at the group of friends.

“That’s why you aren’t over there.” She bumped your shoulder, “I have a Corellian Consular-class space cruiser back home I plan on using as a transport ship. You’re more than welcome to fly it. A group of us is leaving tonight.”

You nod before standing and heading back to your room. Your bed was cluttered with what you were able to save before you were forced to abandon D'Qar. To your surprise, BB-8 sat on his charging station in your room. You sat in front of him and straightened his antenna, he jumped to life, beeping happily as he recognized you.

“Hey, buddy.” You said smiling at the small droid, you then stood and began packing your bag to join Connix. BB-8 beeped confused as you threw the last of your clothes into the bag. “We aren’t going anywhere BeBe, I’m going with Connix.”

The Droid beeped as he followed you to the door, you crouched down and tapped his antenna.

“Take care of Poe, Beebs.” You said before opening the door wide enough for you to escape and leave BB-8 in the room.

You found Connix at a small ship with two other people. She waves and the two people turn around, Rose waved excitedly from her spot next to a man you had seen around the base but never talked to.

“I only need a Ride Home.” You said, Connix nodded before turning to the man

“This is Alexan.” Connie introduced him and you shook his hand. You introduce yourself and Just as the four of you began to board the ship, shouting was heard behind you.

“Rose.” it was Finn, the group turned to find him and Rey running up, Finn frowned when he saw you.

“You aren’t even going to say goodbye?” Rey asked, you look away. You glare at Rey, you had never been particularly fond of the Jedi.

“It’s better this way.” You said before turning to walk up the ramp, but your feet don’t move.

“Why?” Poe’s voice filled the area causing you to jump slightly not hearing him approach the group.

“Because it just is.” You say softly, “I have a duty, I must return home and become ruler.”

“What about me?” Poe asked, the softness in his voice made you want to turn and kiss him. Anger surged through you as you spun around.

“WHAT ABOUT YOU?” You shouted, “You and I were never going to last.”

“Why are you trying to make me hate you?” You sigh, why was he making it so hard? You walked down to face him

“After you realized the War was over, who did you think of?” You whisper, his glance over to Finn was enough of an answer for you. “Go Love him, Poe, I’m choosing for you. I need to go home and rule my people and you must show Finn what love is.”

Poe nodded and pulled you into a hug, you would always love Poe but you knew his heart was destined for another.

“Who did you think of,” Poe asked, you smiled and looked at him.

“You,” he frowned and looked back at Finn who was pretending not to listen in on the conversation.

“Are you sure there’s no other way?” Poe asked, you smiled and brushed a kiss to his cheek.

“This is The Way.” You replied, Poe nodded and took a step back from you, you felt the tears well in your eyes as you turned and rushed onto the ship.

“If you ever need anything, just let me know,” Poe said from behind you, a grin appeared on your face as you turn.

“Of course, Flyboy.”

[sw5w]

Destruction of the Radiant VII

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:05:12

[docgold13]

Star Wars - space crafts of The Republic

Delta-7 Jedi Starfighter; Resolute Attack Cruiser; Consular-class cruiser; ARC-170 Starfighter; Eta-2 Actis-class interceptor; V-19 Torrent; Delta-7 with Hyperspace JumpRing;  V-Wing Interceptor; Eta-2 Actis-class Starfighter; Republic Y-Wing Bomber.  

[ladywindrunner]

@mynameisanakin i finally wrote us a starter ( fite me! )

In the void of space, nothing prevailed save for the eerie silence that was the galaxy’s symphony. A battle had been waged, ruined vessels of both the Republic and the Trade Federation drifted aimlessly about what was once a space station, now derelict from a catastrophic explosion.

           It’d been a defeat for the Republic, who’d had no choice but to pull back what remained of their defense force. Trade Federation ships had rightly pursued, high on a victory that was desperately needed for whatever morale remained in their troops. Their salvage teams had come and gone, leaving behind nothing but the reminder that they should not be underestimated.

           A wounded animal could still be deadly, after all.

           For a while, none came to the ship graveyard save for daring salvage-seekers and scouts. People came and went without incident, though there were whispers that the crafts themselves were haunted. Stories strange noises echoing throughout some of the Acclamator-class battleships nearest the ruined station.

           Then, the salvagers stopped returning.

           And soon after that, no scouts reported back in.

           The Republic’s growing curiosity of what could be occurring, turned to concern when the Consular-class Righteous Ambition abruptly vanished when it was sent to investigate. No word reached any Republic base or vessel, it was as if the ship simply disappeared as soon as it dropped out of hyperspace.

With the war now firmly turning once more in the Republic’s favour, their Grand Navy could afford to properly look into what was occurring in what was dubbed the Unwanted Rest. The Grand Navy’s understandable concern over the area and the strange activity within it, was compounded by the concerns of the Jedi Council.  

           Something about the Unwanted Rest was wrong. As a few of the masters of the Council dwelled on it in private meditations, they felt themselves drawn towards something foul there.

Darkness had taken hold of such a place, and while not unheard of, there was no value to be found there for any Dark Jedi or the Sith.

           In search of answers, the Jedi Council sent Anakin Skywalker to investigate the manner. He was a choice that the Navy’s highest ranking officers also agreed with.

           Aboard the Republic light cruiser Sword of Mercy, it was believed that Skywalker, and the crew, could overcome whatever foe may attack them.

What greeted the Sword of Mercy as it arrived was the desolate space-scape that was the Unwanted Rest. Ruined vessels almost forming a ring around the space station they’d failed to defend. The station itself was shattered into three main pieces, with rubble of the asteroid it’d been built into drifting aimlessly throughout the field.

           Seven Acclamator-class battleships were dead in the water, void-plagued graveyards to massive crews. Each was in a different state of ruin, with great holes in their hulls. There were the remains of countless fighters, and pieces of cruisers and light cruisers scattered about. There was surprisingly little evidence of any Trade Federation vessels, but they’d had the luxury of collecting their salvage and dead long before the Republic could.

           Then, on the far side of the debris, the Righteous Ambition. The distinctive three-engine back portion of the vessel was gone, undoubtedly lost in the sea of starship wreckage, and even without a scan, it was easy to see that the bridge of Republic ship had been blackened by a precise shot to render the ship entirely immobile, and without any sort of mechanism of control or communication.

           Yet the attempt had failed, as a transmission came through to the Sword of Mercy.

           “Help us!”

           A shadow slowly manifested over the Sword of Mercy. A single, massive warship never seen before. A dreadnaught by its sheer magnitude alone, it drifted over the newest vessel as if it didn’t even detect them. It was rectangular with a diamond stern and bow, and on the belly of the chilling craft was a circular port large enough to swallow a ship whole.

           The dreadnaught settled over the consular ship, belly of the craft opening up. The light that came from inside was a strange, vile green. Its glow haunting in every sense of the word.

           Massive harpoons shot out of the light, striking the crippled Righteous Ambition, along with other sections of the derelict vessels.

           Slowly, the cables began to retract, and anything hooked began to be pulled into the dreadnaught.

Sylvanas Windrunner waited in silence. Her expression coldly neutral as she listened to the frantic distress calls coming from the small vessel. They weren’t nearly long range enough to alert any Republic forces of what was occurring, which was thankful as they’d managed to land a lucky strike against her ship. Their short-range scanners weren’t functioning, not well enough to detect any craft if one managed to arrive.

           Thankfully, none had.

           Though there’d been something of a blip initially, Sylvanas was certain it’d turn out to be nothing—

           Her eyes narrowed in annoyance as an alarm sounded. She pivoted gracefully on her heel, watching as overtop a central console, a display of some Republic ship came into view, blasting at her harpoons. Her pale eyes took on a crimson glow as she watched a few of the cables snap, quickly retracting back into the immense bay of the Banshee’s Wail.

           A man stepped forward, skin grey, his eyes dimly glowed with cruel yellow light.

           “Dark Lady,” he murmured, his voice carrying a strange warble. “What is thy bidding?”

           She watched in silence, a sly smirk gracing her lips.

           “Jam their communications and release the other ship,” she ordered, “direct every harpoon at the interloper. Once they’re inside, seal the Maw.”

           The man bowed his head before he slunk away. The Dark Lady turned away from the console, instead stepping up onto the risen platform of the command deck.

           Around her, the scene happening just underneath her starship materialized as a superimposed display. She watched as, all at once, the harpoons that’d been so intent on dragging in debris and the crippled vessel violently released, reeling back into the glow of the Maw.

           Then, they all targeted the new ship. An Arquitens-class cruiser, another arrowhead shaped vessel from the Republic. Sylvanas permitted herself a soft chuckle as she watched thin lines extended from the massive opening in the base of her vessel, to the intruder. Ever so slowly, it was being pulled towards the Maw.

           With a wave of her hand, the Righteous Ambition became the center of view. Sylvanas considered it for a moment, recalling all those frantic calls for help, and warnings. The few attempts it’d tried at bargaining with her, and how she’d answered in silence.

           She wondered if they felt some sort of terrible relief. That they weren’t the ones who’d meet a terrible end within the Banshee’s Wail.

           The red in her eyes burned brighter for a moment, and then her dreadnaught opened fire.

           The Righteous Ambition’s communications abruptly fell silent as what was left of the ship exploded.

           The Sword of Mercy’s struggle came to an abrupt end as the closer it was dragged to the belly of Sylvanas’ flagship, more harpoons shot out. The Republic craft was riddled with sharp, magnetic hooks piercing its hull, with little care given for leaking atmosphere or retaining life support.

            Its engines flickered out as it became enveloped in the vile glow from the Maw. A strange, viral power surge overtaking the Banshee Wail’s prey.

           The ominous portal sealed itself as soon as the last inch of the light cruiser was inside.

           Anakin Skywalker, and the crew of the Sword of Mercy, found themselves cast in darkness.

           And in that pitch blackness, they fall. The ship is dropped abruptly. A brief weightlessness overtaking all onboard before the cruiser slams into the ground in a sparking, crippling crash.

[spikeybits]

Consular Class Cruiser Flies in for Star Wars: Armada Last week we looked at some of the new Galactic Fleet ships coming, today we focus on the Consular Class Cruiser! Read More The post Consular Class Cruiser Flies in for Star Wars: Armada appeared first on Spikey Bits . https://spikeybits.com/2020/11/consular-class-cruiser-flies-in-for-star-wars-armada.html

[deoxyribovoltaic-acid]

UCS Venator-scale Minibuilds!

Left to Right:

- 6 Clear Stands

- 1 Arquitens-Class Republic Attack Cruiser

- 1 Pelta-Class Republic Medical Frigate

- 1 V-19 Torrent Starfighter

- 1 Jedi Starfighter (color of piece can be interchanged)

- 1 Republic Y-Wing Bomber

- 1 Republic Attack Shuttle

- 1 Republic Stealth Craft

- 1 Republic Consular Frigate

Foreground:

- Extra clear pieces to make stands

- 4 Bar 1L w/ Angled Hollow Stud (Trans-Clear)

- 20 Brick, Round 1x1 Open Stud (Trans-Clear)

- 4 Cone 1x1 (Trans-Clear)

Background:

- 2 stands for Republic Frigate (only 1 needed, second could be for anything)

ALL are approximately to—scale with the UCS Venator

[ashmeytmblr]

First attempt at Fanfic writing

I’d greatly appreciate any constructive criticism or criticism in general and some possible suggestions as to where the story would go next!

Star Wars: The Survivors

Chapter 1: The Encounter

Corellia, 32 BBY. 3 standard months following the Invasion of Naboo.

From afar, the megapolis of Coronet City was a sight to behold. Airspeeders appeared as nothing more than blurs of light, traveling in all directions as if they were a puzzle even the greatest minds could not solve. Hulls of unfinished ships transported upon mobile construction walkers the enormity of which could rival even the greatest skyscrapers of the city. The network of roads by which resources were transported and the alleyways that made up the vast urban scape could only be described as a maze by which only those born into it could navigate. 

Corellia was a planet rich with history. Over the tens of thousands of millennia, the planet had witnessed the rise and fall of the Rakatan Infinite Empire, the Eternal Empire, and the Sith Empire. All of whom conquered Corellia in their ancient eras. Having garnered the influence of these extinct civilizations; along with the mass migration to the core world from all sectors of the galaxy, Corellia became one of the most multicultural planets in the Core Worlds. This all changed when the Corellian Engineering Corporation rose.

Less than half a millennia ago, driven by innovation, a small, independent business grew to rival even the greatest starship manufacturers of the age. It presented revolutionary ship designs that allowed for great customization and modification. A concept that had never before been seen. This appealed to anyone, from the most cunning of smugglers to the highest of aristocrats. Though this success was tremendous for the executives and shareholders of the company, the same could not be said for the rest of the populous. 

The Corellian Engineering Corporation gained a near-complete monopoly over the planet’s economy, causing many competitors to either go bankrupt or to be absorbed into the company. With this financial control over the planet and the constant increase in consumer demand, a majority of the population was forced into hard labor. Many received dirt-poor wages, many were crippled or killed while operating hazardous machinery, but the Corellian Government spared no attention. They were controlled by the Corporation after all. 

Kana Shan reflected upon this history as her awe towards Coronet City faded, replaced by the realization of the hell the city truly was. “Come, Kana, we have landed.” her master softly spoke through his comlink. She tied up her long black hair, though it still went down to her waist, and punctually made her way to the ramp of The Implier, a Consular-Class Cruiser and a model commonly used by the republic for important missions. Meeting the old Thisspisian at the bottom of the ramp. “Admiring the sights?” He inquired, gesturing to the vast skyscrapers. “I was,” she paused, “until this,” she pointed towards the oil-stained slums. “Well, I had a similar reaction upon my first visit to Coronet,” he chuckled. They adorned their grey ponchos and broke into a smooth stride, they had an investigation to complete. 

***

Careful to avoid deadly electrocution, Daran reattached the broken cable and sealed it with great care. He squirmed his way out of the tunnel-like space behind the cockpit of a yet-to-be-completed CR-20 Troop Carrier, meeting his boss, who towered above him. 

Child laborers were a rare sight on Corellia, the CEC had minimal obedience and surveillance towards Republic laws and jurisdictions, but seeing a child as young as four years of age working in shipbuilding was unheard of. Daran C’abbath was a rare exception to this belief. Ever since his parents had been blown up by the faulty reactor of a VCX-100 they were repairing 2 years ago, Daran had inherited their debt and was put to work.

Despite the boy’s youth, he was one of the best electricians of the factory, able to pinpoint precise mechanical and electric flaws and repair them in minutes, using his small size to squeeze into tight spaces to make repairs which stubborn Ugnaughts and Ardennians refused to do. This skill was only honed to great effect when it was realized by his boss and guardian, Uinter. A shrewd and cunning 2.4-meter Besalisk construction manager with decades of experience and an eye for efficiency and profit. He had once been best friends with Daran’s father and had cared for him after his father’s passing, however, that did not stop him from teaching the child everything he knew and employing him in repair and construction. 

“Nice goin’ there Sab,” the hulking Besalisk said as he patted Daran on the back, almost knocking him over, “now, tell me kid, how ‘dya know somethin’ was wrong with ‘ose cables?” He asked, a sense of determination in his booming, rusty voice. “Why d’ya keep askin’ me?” Daran asked, “I keep tellin’ ya’ that I don’t know how to describe it to ya’. I just hear ‘em, when there’s something not right about the electrical noises,'' He said, confusing himself. “Arrrrgh! I’ll get it outta ya’ one day!”, Uinter chuckled, ruffling up Daran’s knotty brown hair with one of his leathery, giant hands. 

The youngster batted his toughened hand away with a grin. “‘Ey, ‘cus I made that amazing repair,” Daran said smugly, “why don’ I get the rest o’ the day off, ‘cus, ya’ know-”. “Yeah, yeah, sure,” Uinter interrupted, “you earn’d it, kid”. “Thanks!” Daran immediately replied, excitedly racing out of the construction zone before Uinter changed his mind. 

As soon as he left the area, he slowed down to a walk. Inspecting the run-down slums and workers around him, he spotted a moving crowd not too far ahead. The clustered crowd was made up of locals and travelers alike. He realized the market was open. “Perfect,” he muttered to himself. The market was one of many in Coronet City, though this one was of no notoriety. Selling a variety of different things from Corellian apples to large corvettes, anyone who could get through the twisting maze of tents and stalls could find what they needed there. Right now, Daran needed only one thing, his stomach rumbled as he entered the packed crowd in search of something to eat.

He weaved his way through the crown, careful not to be stomped by an careless Anx. Realizing he wouldn’t be able to get a good view of the stalls because of his height, he spotted a large durasteel antenna rod jotting out of the ground near the center of the crowd. Once a small clearing in the crowd opened, he ran to the rod and gripped it tightly. He clambered up the pole with great speed, realizing it was not so different from the ones he often had to climb in the factory.

With a full view of the marketplace, he scanned the area and found exactly what he needed. A few stalls ahead was a small stall selling Corellian apples piled neatly in a pyramid tower. He slid down the pole and slipped through the crowd until he was only a few leaps from the stall. Upon closer inspection, he saw that the pyramid of apples blocked the Sullustan store owner’s view of the bottom of the stall.

After waiting a few minutes for a customer to arrive, the Sullustan became distracted by a picky Ithorian, holding an apple in his long fingers pointing to a dark patch on the apple. “Bingo,” Daran muttered under his breath. He snuck up to the stall, crouching behind the stall, where the Sullustan couldn’t see him. Looking up at the pyramid, he noticed an apple had fallen from the pyramid. This was his chance. He reached for the apple, snatching it from the stall with lightning speed. He wasn’t fast enough. A greasy, stained hand was gripped firmly around his right arm. “Where d’ya think yer’ goin’ with that ya’ lil’ wonat,” the barrel-chested Sullustan furiously spat in a gurgly voice, “giv’ it back and I’ll let ya’ keep yer’ arm. Jus’ this once”. Thinking on his feet, Daran scooped a chunk of mud from the ground and hurled it into the Sullustan’s sensitive eyes. The Sullustan growled in pain, releasing Daran from his tight grip to wipe the muck from his eyes. 

Daran sprinted as fast as he could. “Guess you’ll ‘ave to take my arm then!” He yelled back, taunting the store owner. As he ran, he stuffed the apple into the inner pocket of his jacket. Not paying attention to the path in front of him, he tripped over and fell flat on his face. He stood up quickly, brushing the mud from his face, trousers, shirt, and jacket. Turning around, he met the gaze of a surprised Thisspiasian and an equally surprised Human, both wearing matching grey ponchos. Realizing he had tripped over the tail of the old Thispiassian. He was about to say sorry when the Sullustan caught up to him and grabbed his right arm up once again, a vibroblade gripped in his free hand. “I tried bein’ the nice guy t’ya’,” The Sullustan growled, “enjoy the rest o’ya’ stinkin’ life without yer’ right arm!” He bellowed. The Sullustan brought the blade down on his arm. Daran flinched, waiting for the pain. It didn’t come.

Oppo Rancisis gripped the Sullustan’s portly wrist with one of his long, taloned hands. “Now, my good salesman,” he spoke in a formal tone, “is there any justifiable reason to bring great harm to this young soul?” He inquired, stroking his beard. “Well…” the Sullustan began, “he stole the apple from me’ store… uh… the kid needs ta’ learn his less-”. “Perhaps this ordeal could be solved with a more peaceful compromise?” Rancisis interjected, “If I were to pay for the stolen produce, could you put this pursuit to rest?” He inquired once again. “... uh… yeah,” the Sullustan said, baffled. “Very well then,” Rancisis replied. He tossed a credit chip above the Sullustan’s head. The Sullustan sheathed his knife away and fumbled for the singular credit. “Master-”, his apprentice began. He shot her a glare and she quickly silenced. “Will that suffice?” He queried. “Yeah, that'll be jus’ enough,” the Sullustan sneered as he walked back to his stall to tend to the lingering Ithorian. “Are you alright my boy?” Rancisis asked the human child. “Yeah, I’m all good,” the boy replied, “sorry for trippin’ over ya’”. “It’s perfectly fine,” he assured the boy. “It occurs more than you would expect.” He chuckled, whisking his tail. “Come, Kana, we must continue,” he instructed his apprentice, and the two began to move. 

Daran stood still in shock for a moment before slipping through the crowd and out of the marketplace, back into the dusty slum area, a vast part of the city made up of warehouse-like stack houses, often referred to as slats, cobbled together with rusting metal and makeshift ladders. Thinking about the luck of what had just happened, he chewed into the apple, throwing the core behind him. Realizing it was getting dark, he walked through the area with caution before making it to his own slat. He opened the door to the flat, careful not to creak the door and risk waking his slatmates. Like the factory, Daran was by far the youngest in the slat. The second youngest was a 16-year-old Nautolan known as Brim, but even he could pass as an adult, so Daran rarely spoke to him. He quietly climbed into his over-sized bed, falling asleep only a few minutes after shutting his eyes.

“Why did you refer to me as ‘master’ directly in the presence of the locals?” Oppo Rancisis inquired. “I instructed you to refer to me as Rancisis in the presence of locals''. “I’m sorry, master,” Kana replied, a look of embarrassment on her face. “I said it out of habit. I just wonder why you decided to help that boy”. “I saw that the boy created a particularly violent ordeal for himself. Had I left the Sullustan to amputate the Boy’s arm, he would’ve likely bled out or died due to infection. I, nor anyone else, should have stood idly by and allow for such an act to occur,” he explained to her, “besides, I assume neither the Sullustan nor the Boy are in collusion with The Rise. So they will not learn of our investigation yet,” he reassured her.  “I hope that was the case,” Kana nervously replied. “But even after a day of enquiring, we still haven’t found Semt or his group of… terrorists!”. “Calm yourself, Kana,” her master reassured her, “you’re right, we have been inquiring for a day, but only a day. It could possibly be weeks before we uncover the location of their hideout. However, we must not give up. An attempt against Senator Iblis’s life is a serious matter. Had The Rise succeeded in their assassination, the Senate would’ve erupted in anarchy at the news of the death of a Core World senator. I understand your anticipation towards locating these revolutionaries, I shared a similar enthusiasm to you in my youth, but we must be patient,” he explained. “Thank you for giving me a new perspective master,” Kana replied gratefully. The two wished each other a good night, exited the conference room of The Implier, and returned to their personal quarters.

***

The next day was turning out to be a rather uneventful one for Daran. He and an old Ottegan engineer finished wiring up the control panel of a CR90. He left the construction platform, sliding down the pole that connected it to the ground level of the factory, turning around to quickly admire the factory block. A gigantic warehouse structure tens of stories high, filled with thousands of rusted construction platforms surrounding all manner of incomplete ship models produced by the CEC. He walked through the forest of poles connecting the thousands of platforms to the ground, welding sparks flying at random around him, finding Uinter in his office. It was a small enclosed block near the entrance of the factory. “‘Ey, me an’ the Otto jus’ finished wirin’ the CR90,” he said. Looking up from his datapad and sitting up in his giant swiveling chair, Uinter smiled. “Well that def’nitely didn’ take ya’ long, did it!” he said, impressed with his speed, “well, lucky for ya’, there’s some boys who need a lil’ help up back. They’re sayin’ somethin’s gone wrong with the cablin’ of a YT-1300. Go and giv’ em’ a hand why don’t ya’,” he told Daran. “Sure thing,” Daran replied. He left the small block and approached the maze of poles. As he was about to slip through it, he noticed something strange out of the corner of his eye. Turning around, he couldn’t believe what he saw. Entering Uinter’s office was the same Thisspiasian and Human he saw yesterday in the marketplace.

“Rancisis, are you sure this construction manager is going to know anything?” Kana asked. “It is a possibility that he may not know anything. However, we must inquire to the greatest extent of our abilities. Remember, these businessmen are not above selling information,” her master told her. The two entered the manager’s office. From the information they were provided by locals, he was a Besalisk and a giant for his species known as Uinter who had connections to almost everyone in Coronet, Kana felt as though it was a little too good to be true and folded her arms in discomfort. “Greetings manager, my name is Quis Sapeins and this is my associate, Lucet,” Rancisis gestured to her, “we are representatives of the Galactic Republic seeking intel regarding a possible purchase of this particular facility”. “Heh, ya’ almost had me there,” the Besalisk chuckled, “too bad yer’ apprentice ‘ere can’t ‘elp but flash her lightsaber for everyone to see”, he pointed directly at her lightsaber. Startled, Kana quickly dropped her arms to her sides, covering her lightsaber. “Why’re ya’ really ‘ere, Jedi,” he smirked. “Very well,” Rancisis began, “my apprentice and I are here on an investigation into the location of The Rise and their leader, Semt. If you can provide any information regarding their whereabouts, the Republic will pay you a great sum in return,” the Thisspiasian elucidated. “The Rise, ‘ey. Well, I ‘ave a lil’ info about-”. “Master, I sense someone is watching us,” Kana interrupted, turning to see a cloaked figure from afar dropping a pair of macrobinoculars and running from their position atop a complex of slums. Without saying a word the two exited the office and gave chase to the cloaked figure.

Daran saw the Thisspiasian and the Human bolt out of Uinter’s office. He was gripped by a sudden urge to follow them. No. I shouldn’t, he thought to himself. But before he knew it, he was already following them. Barely keeping up with the two, he had no idea why he was chasing after them. But he felt almost forced to. He couldn’t describe it, but it was like he sensed something from them. But what?

The cloaked figure was incredibly acrobatic. Employing the use of a range of front and backflips in an attempt to distract the two Jedi. Oppo Rancisis saw past them. Based on the stamina of cloaked figure, the Jedi-like jumps it was performing, and a distinct lack of a great presence in the force, Rancisis quickly deduced that the figure was a Terrelian Jango Jumper. And a nimble one. He just had to wait for the right moment. Gesturing to Kana to slow, he saw the opportunity. Poised in his taloned hand, he threw a small flashing device with such precision it landed and attached itself to the end of the Jango Jumper’s cloak. He slowed alongside his apprentice. “Why are we slowing?” She demanded. “Because, Kana, the Figure will only lead us away from their hideout,” he explained. “What I just attached to the Figure’s cloak was a tracking device. It will think we’re no longer chasing it and return to it’s hideout. Then, we will be able to confront The Rise and bring it and Semt to justice”. “I should have assumed that,” Kana said, embarrassed. “Nonsense my young padawan, you’re only 21. You still have much to learn. I know one day you will become wiser than I. You may even reach 174 if you’re lucky,” he reassured her. “Thank you, Rancisis,” she gratefully smiled. Rancisis drew a small screen from one of the gadgets affixed to his belt and turned it on, greeted with a visual of the city and a small red dot indicating the location of the tracker. “There,” Kana noticed the dot changing direction, “now we simply follow them at a distance”. “Precisely,” Rancisis commended her, “you learn quickly”. The two followed the red dot, maintaining a distance.

Daran was almost exhausted. He was about to give up when to his luck, the two began to slow. Relieved, but tired, he halted to quickly catch his breath before moving once again as to not lose sight of the Thisspiasian and the Human. Realizing the two were headed for an alleyway, he took extra care to stay quiet so they wouldn’t notice him and followed them through the narrow path. 

The flashing dot halted, barely faltering from a block on the map. “It appears as though the figure may have arrived back at their hideout”, Rancisis observed. “We should move quickly,” Kana said. “They may be wary of our approach and preparing to ambush us”. “Very good, my young apprentice,” Rancisis replied. The two picked up pace, winding through the labyrinth of narrow alleyways, passing many individuals of all manner of species until they were directly in front of the block the dot indicated on the map. From what Kana could see, it was a small, beige warehouse; very out of the way, very bland. Perfect for a hideout. Kana turned to her master to see him place one of his large, taloned hands on the corrugated metal entrance to the warehouse. “It seems as though this entryway is designed to be misleading,” Rancisis stated. “Though in appearance, it may seem to be nothing more than a standard warehouse entry. It is, in actuality, a reinforced, durasteel door”. “I think we’ve found our hideout,” Kana smiled. “It appears so,” he replied. “Now, Kana, stand back”. She took a few steps back, realizing he was about to make use of a force technique known as shatterpoint, a rare Force ability which called upon the Force to seek out a weak point and then apply a small amount of Force pressure to collapse the recipient. It could be applied both to find a flaw within a structure or an opponent, though the latter was considerably harder to pull off as it required great concentration. Under the tutelage of the Jedi Council member, Kana had yet to fully master the practice, however, she kept training up as she knew she possessed great potential within the Force. Within a few seconds, her master successfully located a weak point within the door and it shattered like glass. The two warily entered the pitch-black room, their footsteps reverberating from the walls. The darkness didn’t fool either of them. Sensing ten individuals, blazing lights suddenly illuminated the hollow interior. At the opposing end of the warehouse, an elevated throne made of all manner of scraps of metal welded together and crudely painted black. Standing aside from the throne at both sides were nine individuals. One Ishi Tib, three Humans, four Quarren, and the Terrelian Jango Jumper in no particular order. Each of them sporting an electrostave and dark cloaks. The tenth individual, sitting atop the throne, was an Iktotchi, Semt, staring at the two with unevenly dilated pupils, partially shaking. “Welcome, my new disciples,” he said audaciously, “I wondered if you would arrive”. “Semt, what has become of you? You were once a great Jedi Knight who showed promise to become a Jedi Master,” Rancisis interjected. “I’m glad you asked, Master Rancisis,” Semt smiled eerily, “you see, not long ago I held the same ignorant values you, your apprentice, and many other Jedi held. I believed them without question, yes. But then, one fateful night, I saw it, a vision! A glimpse into the future. Oh my, what I saw,” he suddenly burst into laughter before striking himself in the temple, “the Republic, the Jedi are done for! The Order, the Temple will burn. Once more the Sith will rule the galaxy,” his breathing became exasperated, “and I will rule with them. I will prove myself. The Rise will prove itself. WE REFUSE TO DIE WITH A DOGMATIC ORGANISATION OF IGNORANT FOOLS WHO REFUSE TO SEE ONE STEP AHEAD OF THEM,” he suddenly snapped. “But why attempt to murder a senator who has no relation to the Jedi?” Kana asked. “Oh, that.” Semt began. “Well you see, that action, I assure you, will have me noticed by him, the emperor yet to rise. He will gladly accept me into his order for my action of dedication to his yet-to-rise regime. So I had one of my most loyal disciples destroy the ship, bravely sacrificing himself in the process. But it was a decoy. A DECOY!” He slammed his fist against the arm of the throne, denting the metal. “I knew the Senate would send their little Jedi on a little errand to find me. As soon as I heard rumors of an elderly Thisspiasian and a human with egregiously long hair questioning locals, I knew it must have been you two. My faithful scout, Lika, confirmed that”. He paused. “Now, my Jedi, I give you both the chance. Join me, together we shall watch as the Jedi and the Republic fall, replaced by a regime which will accept us with open arms as their most elite, devoted soldiers of the Dark Side of the Force”. He reached out a twitching hand. “Visions can be deceiving,” Rancisis countered. “They only provide a subtle glimpse into the future, even for an Iktotchi with great precognition skills. What you say may not seem as it is. To turn to acts of treachery, to turn to the Dark Side of the Force is a true tragedy. Unfortunately, I will have to stop you here. I can assure you will be trialed fairly in a-”. “FOOL! Do you not see? I SEE WHAT IS TO COME! YOU AND YOUR BRAINWASHED LITTLE PADAWAN WILL DIE WITH THE DOGMA OF THE JEDI! MY DISCIPLES, DESTROY THEM BOTH,” he screamed furiously before bursting into uncontrollable laughter.  

Having lost sight of the Thisspiasian and the Human, Daran was aimlessly wandering the maze of the alleyway. Looking and listening for any possible signs of the paths they went down, he anxiously turned from path to path, hoping to find something, anything. Realizing the panic he was working himself into, he stopped in the middle of the path. Closing his eyes and slowing his breathing, he felt something, the same feeling which compelled him to follow the two in the first place. Giving in to the feeling, he began walking again, only this time with purpose, almost as if he knew where to go. Passing by the tan buildings and hanging rags either side of him, he turned down the final path, seeing a shattered door and hearing maddening laughter. Not allowing himself to give in to the fear swelling in the back of his mind, he approached the warehouse. Carefully peering into the entrance, he was shocked by what he saw.

Four of the disciples approached Kana while five approached her master, their electrostaves poised and ready to strike. Removing his poncho to reveal his dark brown Jedi robe and his additional two arms which Thisspiasians only revealed publicly in combat. He ignited his green-bladed lightsaber, deflecting every clumsy strike the disciples swung at him before resting himself on the latter half of his serpentine tail to tower above them. Kana followed suit, unveiling a lighter, tan Jedi robe. Taking the long hilt affixed to her belt, she ignited her own lightsaber, revealing two short blades that burned a radiant orange. An extremely rare colour which reflected her reluctance to draw upon the weapon, only using it in self-defense. She reflexively twirled the weapon using her wrist, deflecting every strike except one which grazed her side, mildly burning her. Giving a small grunt, she and her master both called upon the Force, launching the nine disciples across the warehouse, each one colliding with the wall behind Semt’s throne, all of them unconscious. “No… No. NO! NO! NO!” Semt screamed. “USELESS FOOLS, ALL OF THEM.” He paused. “You think you have stopped me, Jedi?” he asked rhetorically. “I will return again, you’ll see!” He launched himself from his throne, making a beeline towards the exposed exit. However, he saw a small figure standing in the way. He bared his chipped teeth, igniting his blue-bladed lightsaber, poised to strike it down.

Mesmerized by what he just saw take place, but suddenly paralyzed by fear as the mad Iktotchi advanced towards him. “MOVE, BOY!” The Iktotchi screamed as he raised his lightsaber to strike Daran down. In an act of desperation, Daran rose his arms in front of him. He suddenly felt a surge of power, like the one that compelled him, only stronger. It felt like it rippled through his arms as it left his hands. He opened his eyes, seeing the Iktotchi sprawled on the ground ten meters into the warehouse, groaning. What did I do? Daran thought. “D-did I do that?” He asked himself. The Thisspiasian looked from the Iktotchi to Daran. “Yes, you did my boy.” He told Daran. “The Force is strong with you”. “Wha- th-the Force,” he stuttered. Daran had heard stories about the Jedi. Uinter had told him that they were a group of people, all different species, who wielded strange sword-like weapons called lightsabers and could move things by waving their hands using a power known as the Force. Did he have that power? The Human approached him and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. She had a kind and smiling face and appeared to be a Kuati human. “What is your name?” she asked, her voice soothing his fear. “Um… my name is Daran,” he mumbled, “wh-what about yours?”. “My name is Kana Shan, I’m a Jedi Padawan,” she said, showing her braid, the only part of her long, dark brown hair that wasn’t tied back, “and this is my Master, Oppo Rancisis,” she gestured to the Thisspiasian who gave a welcoming nod. “I remember meeting you two yesterday,” Daran blurted out. “I wanna thank ya’ again, for saving me”. “You’re very welcome my boy,” Rancisis smiled. Suddenly, the Iktotchi sprung from the ground, igniting his lightsaber to strike the Thisspiasian. The Jedi Master reacted almost instantly, drawing his own saber to defend the frantic swings of the Iktotchi. Seeing an opening, he slashed the Iktotchi’s lightsaber in half, destroying it before landing a blow between his cranial horns using the force of his palm, knocking the Iktotchi out. The demonstration of power left Daran speechless. “Captain, Kana and I have successfully apprehended Semt and The Rise.” He spoke into his comlink, solemnity in his tone. “I’m sending you my location now,” he said, pressing a small button on a device affixed to his belt, “alert the Chancellor and have a collection team sent here to detain them. I apologize for that interruption. Now, my boy, could you please tell us how old you are,” he said in a calmer tone. “Four… I think,” Daran replied, slightly unsure. The Jedi Master stroked his beard, deep in thought. 

Kana could see from his contemplative expression that he was weighing up bringing Daran to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. She knew the council was marginally opposed towards the induction of younglings beyond infancy into the Order. However, her master was notably more conservative in the following of the Jedi ways when compared to the fellow Jedi who made up the Jedi High Council and advocated for younglings to be allowed into the order. “Master, I think we should bring him to the Jedi Temple,” she suggested. “Was I not discovered by Master Giiett on Kuat when I was only three years old? What about Master Mundi? He was inducted into the Jedi Order when he was four, just like Daran here”. “I understand your point of view Kana,” he replied. “However, what concerns me is that of the recent induction of Skywalker, the prophecised Chosen One, at the age of nine. I fear the council may not be willing to grant another exception,” he explained. “But master, he is still very young and you saw the power he possesses. It would be such a waste of potential to simply neglect his power and leave him untrained,” Kana argued back. “Think of all the good he could do for the galaxy if he were allowed to be trained, what he could accomplish,” she said persuasively. “And he’s still only four, so he’s only three years out of infancy. I think it’s worth a chance”. Rancisis gave her an honoured smile. “I have taught you well, my padawan. You may not see it, but you are a very wise woman, Kana. You will go on to become a great Jedi Knight someday,” he appraised her. “Very well, now tell me Daran, is there anyone who watches over you,” he asked the boy. “Umm… yes,” Daran nervously replied. “His name is Uinter and he was the guy you two were talking to before you two ran out of his office”. “I see,” Rancisis replied. “We will wait here until the Republic forces arrive, then we shall consult your guardian”.

***

After the Republic forces had arrived and arrested Semt and his disciples, Daran and the two Jedi made their way back to Uinter’s office. During their small walk, Kana told Daran of all the things the Jedi stood for and the adventures she and her master had been through together. These tales of adventure filled Daran’s head with fantasies of the future, thinking of all the amazing places he would go to in the Galaxy and the people he would meet. These thoughts were suddenly ousted from his head as he saw an unimpressed Uinter standing at the wide entrance of the factory, a bitter look plastered across his face. “Daran! Where’n the blazes didya’ go?! And why’re ya’ with ‘em?” the Besalisk bellowed. “Ya’ better have a good excuse for this one, ya’ hear me, or there ain’t gonna be no pay for a week”. 

“Please allow me to provide clarity to the ordeal at hand,” Rancisis stepped in. “This boy, Daran, has shown great potential within the Force, it is very strong with him. I believe the best future for him would be for him to be trained within the Jedi arts to help him unravel his true potential and become a force for light within the Galaxy”. “Wha? So you’re tellin’ me Daran here has the Force?” Uinter asked rhetorically. “Ha! So that’s why he always knows when there’s somethin’ wrong with the circuits,” he mumbled. “Well, the whole Jedi thing does sound nice an’ all, but i’m afraid i gotta tell ya’ that Daran’s stayin’ ‘ere on Corellia, he’s already a “force for light” or whatever, he’s saved a tonne o’ my guys with his skill and i don’t wanna lose that”. 

The idea of staying on Corellia for the rest of his life was ringing through Daran’s head, would he ever gain another opportunity like this? A chance to leave behind the life of the slums and finally see the Galaxy he had only ever been told of in stories and legends. He didn’t think so. “Uinter!” Daran yelled, immediately grabbing his attention. “I don’t wanna live in this place for the rest of my days. I wanna see the stars, I wanna become a Jedi and go on adventures around the Galaxy. I wanna meet and help people everywhere. Think of Osbourne and Marnie, once my ma and pa and your friends. Do ya’ think this is what they want for me? To live the rest of my life in the place they both died? I know they wouldn’t have and I know deep down you don’t either. So please, let me go. This is the only chance I’ll ever get,” tears were flowing down his face. Uinter walked up to Daran and crouched on one knee. “Sab, your ma and pa would be very proud o’ ya’.” the Besalisk said softly, a tear falling from his cheek. “I’ll let ya’ go, but on one condition, ya’ visit me one day,” he gave a small chuckle. “Thank you,” Daran replied. The two embraced, knowing it was the last time they would see each other for a long time. “Come, Daran,” Rancisis interjected, “it is time for your journey to begin”. Daran left the embrace of Winter, giving him one last nod, knowing he would visit him one day.

As Daran was brought aboard The Implier, he couldn’t help but marvel at the interior of the vessel. So bright unstained, it was as if it had never been set foot in. Kana gave him a friendly gesture to follow her and led him to a small room near the command bridge. It didn’t take long for Daran to realise it must be Kana’s quarters, though it was unlike any other he had seen. The room was just as unstained as the corridor, though the bed was so well made it wouldn’t be unreasonable to assume no one had slept in it before. The room had a distinct sweet aroma to it, and a real table, a rare luxury in the slums one would be lucky to acquire without stealing it. Daran compared the room to his own slat, so dull, stained, and rancid, with unkempt beds, it was as if this very room was the direct opposite to the slats.

“Here, have a seat,” Kana smiled as she guided him to a small stool while she seated herself opposite to him. “Now, I know this is probably a huge change in scenery for someone like you”. “Umm… yes,” Daran replied nervously as he forced a small smile. “Don’t worry, I felt the exact same way when I was brought aboard a vessel like this,” she reassured him. A minute of awkward silence passed. “Would you like something to drink?” Kana offered, placing two cups and a cylindrical bottle on the table. “Yes please,” Daran replied with more confidence. She delicately poured each of them a cup. Daran starred in amazement at the liquid within. It was a pastel pink colour with small bubbles popping all over the surface of the water. “Have a sip,” Kana encouraged him, taking a sip from her own cup. Cautiously raising the cup to his mouth, he eyed the strange liquid one last time before taking a small swig. His eyes widened as he stared in awe at the cup. Never before had he tasted such a sweet flavour. “I’m going to guess you like it,” Kana chuckled. Daran swiftly nodded as he downed the rest of the liquid. “Hey, you have different coloured eyes,” she pointed out. “That’s rare for Humans”. “‘Never really thought much of ‘em,” Daran replied. “They’re just eyes ya’ know”. “It does make you look unique though. They’re special in their own way,” she replied. “I guess so,” he admitted. The ship started vibrating with the smooth sound of the engines as it filled the cruiser. Adrenaline flew through him as the ship pressurized itself, accelerating away from the landing pad until it was but a speck in the infinitely large scene of Coronet City. His journey had begun.