@Hellion Both do have contact with the Empire, arguable to just how much with the latter. Either is fine though, as I'm sure you'll have a somewhat reasonable background for why a member of a somewhat isolated race has joined with the crew. Plenty of possibilities and all that.
When first hearing of "The Mariner" most assume the same image as all others before them. A woman hardened by the salt air of an ocean world, skin darkened by the light of some star or another and a life on the waves that has led to a body built by struggle. That imposing image seems to always fade immediately as soon as one sees her true face. Pale and lithe, she is an entirely different kind of woman than that of what people assume her to be. Instead of the bitter grimace and gruff words, she speaks softly and an ever so alluring smile tempting people closer and into just listening to what she has to say. It helps that while Miralukan and already nearly indistinguishable from humans, she has taken to cybernetics to further enhance the lie. And that's exactly what she is from the moment she opens her mouth to greet either new prospects, potential informants or new clients. A lie, and one that has been honed by experience and skill over the years.
What she presents to all those save her crew is that of the inexperienced woman out seeing the Outer Rim and hanging off the words of every dashing smuggler or bounty hunter who passes by. It's an image that plays well due to her distinctly feminine… Assets and allure, which she has never been shy of using to tease through carefully selected outfits to enhance what she has. Everything about her image in fact is a show to play one person or another, whether it be the more conservative dress she takes to for meetings and among her own crew, to that tailored to attract all the wrong kinds of attention. Perhaps the only constant is her armourweave bodyglove, form-fitting and skin-tight so as to easily wear anything over and to always be prepared in case things go south. That and of course her face, as it is the one vanity she indulges in.
Despite all of the clever plays and dressing up though, she cannot hide for long that she is a warrior. Spring-taut muscle always ready beneath that porcelain skin, she has dedicated herself over the years equally to keeping in peak physical condition and has the scars to prove it. Scores of old wounds decorate her body from her neck down to her feet. Claw marks from various beasts of different sizes, slashes stretching along her sides from near misses, the stab wounds from where she was just that bit too slow and one in particular that still stings. Considered her greatest mistake the large pink blotch just below her shoulder is where she had taken a lightsaber through the chest, and very nearly died from it.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
- Aphelion: A modification of her first lightsaber, Solace's Lightsaber-pike has seen intermittent use over the years since the Jedi Purge, and many modifications. The original lightsaber sits at the cap of a cortosis-weave staff, the components built into the custom housing and reinforced for more her more aggressive style of combat. Inside, enhancements to the emitter allow her to change the tuning of the blade through her connection with the force, giving her the ability to vary the sharpness or length at will to a degree. The crystal itself is attuned to her and forms a viridian/green colored blade.
- Perihelion: Not actually a single lightsaber, the pair of shoto blades Solace calls "Perihelion" were gifts to her from her former master, Zentraedies. At a blade length of just under a foot each, they are well suited to her particular style of Juyo/Vaapad, which relies on high mobility and close engagement ranges. Both sabers are a deep blue in color, as many traditional Jedi lightsabers were.
- Solace's Jedi Armor: Like many of those who joined the Clone Wars and focused on a more battle-intensive role, Solace was provided a set of Clone Trooper armor to better protect herself. Though rarely used as a full set since, she still maintains it in case she has need of it, replacing worn out components as best she can. There are a few personalizations that have been made in the years, primarily the integration of a smaller guard-shoto lightsaber in the wrist of the right gauntlet, and an armourweave bodysuit as the underlayer. Finding it to be suitable protection by itself, she often wears the bodysuit underneath normal clothing.
- Cybernetics: Despite being able to see quite clearly through the force, being Miraluka does have the downside of standing out in a crowd. To this end, Solace made a point of finding a willing cybernetic surgeon to provide her with a pair of disturbingly lifelike eyes. Able to simply insert them into her vestigial sockets, they link to a small adapter wired into her skull that lets them sync with her forcesight and act as normal eyes. She's even had work done recently that allows her to use them in situations where she may be cut off from the force, either willingly or less so. It has become a particular boon in more than one situation and remains one of the most vital tools at her disposal.
- Assorted clothes: Among various items of clothing are her old Jedi robes, a few normal civilian outfits, as well as Imperial uniforms and some more cantina appropriate attire.
- Vibro-gladii: As most often she will be without a lightsaber, Solace has taken to carrying a pair of vibroblades on her when on a contract that may involve combat, or in areas where doing so may be prudent. Each blade is of the same length of her shoto blades and with a thin cortosis weave through the handles just in case.
- Push-blades: In addition to her assorted vibro weapons, lightsabers and blasters, she also has a few more discreet items in her small arsenal. Of particular use are a pair of modified grapple-launchers fitted to a small strap meant to wrap around her wrist and sit at the very bottom of her palm. Both have seen the normal hook replaced with a two inch vibro-blade, the energy cell disguised as a watch, and restrained so as not to be able to leave the holster beyond the range of her hand. The trigger mechanism has also been modified so that it cannot be accidentally set off, wired to a kyber crystal the size of a pearl that when activated by Solace specifically through the force, the blades eject. In effect, when set properly the push-blades become pneumatic pistons that can impact with enough force to cleanly pierce most personal body armor or shields. Of course, that requires a very personal touch as well leaving them to be only used as a last resort surprise weapon.
- Blaster weapons: Along with her wonderful impression of a real human, and the clothes to blend in as a few different occupations, she also occasionally carries a pair of blaster pistols and blaster rifle. They are minimally personalized, serving primarily as costume though still very functional.
- Sith Holocron: Given freely as a reward from a rather unsavory contact on Hutta, the relic was at first discarded as simply a strange shelf decoration. When it began whispering to her as she slept, Solace took an interest in it, and unlocking its secrets. Since opening it and discovering the identity of the former Sith who owned it, she has spent many nights talking to the holocron, learning of the Sith and their ways.
| {Physical Abilities} |
- Battlemaster: First and foremost a warrior, Solace has always excelled in the realm of combat. No matter the weapon she can find the weight of it just by feel, able to intuitively understand how to properly handle it and use it to its most lethal effect. Of course, though she is equally at home wielding a blaster or vibro-blade, there is only one weapon that feels truly natural in her hands. That is the lightsaber. When in the academy and learning with the other initiates, at first she had found herself struggling with the force and the nuances of it. Few powers came to her even in the years since exile, but when she took hold of the training saber she found her calling and the knights overseeing her training did as well. It was relatively simple from there, absorbing all she could of the varied forms and slowly creating her own. The varied blademasters of the order were all too eager to assist, even Mace Windu taking the time to teach of his own style to her. Vaapad was one which she took to more than the others, finding the highly aggressive style complimentary to her nature, and when it came time for her exams she displayed her own form for all to see. Flowing like water, she dances around her opponents careful to never give enough of a target for them to hit while always seeking and stabbing into their own soft spots. Her form relies on mobility, often enhanced through the force and making use of her own stature versus larger and stronger opponents. It is not a defensive form in the least either, for everything is devoted to the conclusion of the fight as soon as possible, so while in her own form she rarely is able to block. That said, she does know of the full range of lightsaber forms even if she is fairly out of practice in them.
- Outer Rim Academy: After the Jedi Purge and their time with their master was over there was a point at which the sisters found themselves lacking in a proper way to make a living. Fortunately enough for them, the Outer Rim provides opportunity in spades and more so to one willing enough to learn the subtle nuances of the lawless regions. Solace was one willing, and she learned to her benefit that all she needed out there was a little bit of cleverness, ruthlessness and often times showing enough skin to get what she wanted. Each year out on their own she would find herself learning more, becoming enamored to the so-called "Scum and Villainy" that the core-worlders were warned of. With now ten years of experience, she has become a decent enough infiltrator, spy, thief and whatever else is needed of her in order to complete the job she's given as captain of her company and to keep her sister safe.
| {Force Abilities} |
- Buried Presence - Cloak of Shadow - Force Lightning
| {Limitations} |
- Burst Fighter: Though at peak physical fitness and always seeking to push the envelope further, Solace is simply not built for battles of attrition. This shows most obviously in her adaptation of Vaapad, where little if any defensive moves exist and relies almost entirely on her own aggression. Prolonged fights tend to drain her because of that, and if things begin to look out of favor for her she is prone to disengage and run.
- Limited Force Powers: It was always her sister that was considered the prodigy of the academy, even in an era of renowned greats serving to defend the galaxy during the lead up to the Clone Wars. Solace is okay with that too, for while her ability in the force can be considered lacking, she is capable enough. She's never seen the need to know more than she does in that realm, getting by with what few powers are at her command and instead working to hone them. In her mind, if she's ever been in need of some force healing or something beyond her, she can just lean on her sister for some assistance.
- Outer Rim Academy: For all that she has learned out there on her own to provide for her sister and later the mercenary company she founded, the Outer Rim also takes quite eagerly. Not every lesson came easily, a few scars showing where she has miscalculated from time to time, as well as that she still has much to learn. More than that though, it's the successes that may someday prove to be her biggest detriment. Early on Solace learned to take the easy win, as so often it ended up a lot more trouble than it was worth to keep pushing. While true she has become rather adept at deceit and manipulation, it is not nearly to the extent she has been led to believe. All too often she relies more on allure and charm rather than actual skill when it comes to gathering information, and for as long as that and her luck has sustained her, it will not last forever.
Like everyone else in the Jedi Order, with the violent formation of the Empire there came a point where she had the choice to cling bitterly to its principles or to change with the galaxy around her. Though she was still young at the time, the importance of what happened was not lost on her and Solace chose the path she felt best in order to protect her sister. Over the years she has adapted to a more and more ruthless and brutal galaxy, becoming so herself in order to maintain her way. That her sister comes first has never once wavered. Always no matter what she does, Requiem is first in her mind. To take care of her, ensure she always has something to eat and a safe place to sleep. For her, even her own safety is of little consequence as long as her sister is taken care of. In some ways this has also extended to those who have come to call her captain. "The mission comes first." She has said many times over, briefing her people on whatever odd job they managed to secure for the month, but most of them know better. Not once has she ever put them in place of risk that she didn't know they could pull out of. Not once has Solace carelessly wasted their talents, and not once has she ever left someone behind.
That has always been her duty as captain, and to back it up she shows a cunning that has been carefully cultivated over the years. The Outer Rim is a harsh and unforgiving place to live, always fraught with dangers and providing new and interesting lessons on life. Solace like many of her crew, has often times learned the hard way as to just how unforgiving it can be. So she seldom leaves room to negotiate, rarely allows those who put either her sister or her crew in danger to do so without recourse, and despises loose ends. More than once has she taken things a step too far in order to do so, but it is always in their best interests. Such interests that she always feels as if may be in danger by something or another. It's something that has befallen many of the survivors of the Jedi Purge, at least those who haven't fallen in with the Empire once more. The sudden loss of so many all at once and in such a violent way left those who escaped reeling, and the more sensitive of their order struggling to cope with the aftermath. Solace had her sister to cling to, but it has still left her incredibly paranoid that there will always be an assassin around the corner seeking to finish the job, not the least for what they've had to do in order to survive.
Yet for all that, she hasn't entirely lost herself. Not the woman that has become the face of a ruthless mercenary group for hire to the worst of the galaxy, but the girl who had been plucked from home and shown a world of wonder. At that time she had actually been the more outgoing of the two sisters, surrounding herself with friends and family, charming them with her natural charisma and wit. The darkness she's taken upon herself hasn't diminished that one bit, and the freedom of not having the order overhead to dictate her life has even allowed her to flourish. In the same breath as promising a grisly end, she can whisper of far better outcomes and give a smile that could melt the very ice she exudes. So it is that for all of what she is, Solace has never been more alive than here and now, mingling among the scum and villainy within yet another cantina in the Outer Rim.
Requiem
| {Full Name} |
Sena Alleron
| {Age} |
26
| {Species} |
Miraluka
| {Gender} |
Female
| {Force Sensitive/Alignment} |
Yes - Light
| Role on Ship |
Navigator // Force-Healer // Moral Support
| {Appearance} |
As to be expected from twins, Requiem shares most of the same physical features as her sister. Just like her, she is of a remarkably average height at 5'4" and lithe build, though with the same distinctly womanly shape. Unlike Solace, she doesn't quite have the same lithe and toned physique, instead being a little "softer". To that end she seems to focus far more on keeping up appearances. Even the smallest blemish finds itself removed through force healing, her pale skin always perfectly smooth. While her sister finds endless amusement in teasing her over it, she always makes time out of the day to ensure nothing is out of place, obsessively hygienic to the point of paranoia.
Much like Solace, she does have a vain side, though far more pronounced in her own way. She also acquired cybernetic eyes, though changes the colors of them about as often as the color of her own hair. It is a habit that she knows should be avoided, but with her love of vibrant colors, she can't stop herself from indulging. Because of that, it's relatively uncommon for her to sport a "normal" hair color, though often enough choosing such lovely shades like turquoise and hot pink.
Clothing wise, it's all the same. Vibrant, often cheerful colors are the norm, and one would often think that perhaps she's compensating for the lack of any true visual ability, but she knows exactly what she's doing. Requiem will tend to gravitate towards anything cheerful or flowery, things that accentuate her naturally bubbly and youthful personality. She is also rather fond of keeping to Miralukan traditional garb, such as the veils and cloths over her face to cover her lack of eyes. Unlike Solace, she doesn't try to hide who she is, which tends to get her into more trouble than it's worth.
| {Equipment and Personal Belongings} |
- Equilibrium: A personalized curved hilt crossguard lightsaber, this was her first and has remained near unchanged since the day she finished it. Other than being able to use either emitter as the primary blade, the only unique modification is the vibrant magenta color of the blade.
- Requiem's Jedi Robes: Preferring them while on any kind of potential combat mission, the robes are the very same that she had when they left the order after the purge. A very normal drab brown, she actually doesn't like them that much in terms of fashion, but they allow her to use the full range of her force abilities unimpeded.
- Assorted clothes: Unlike Solace who uses various outfits with her cybernetics to blend in and disguise herself, Requiem's ever growing collection is far more focused on what is and isn't fashionable. An entire room of their ship is devoted exclusively to her clothing, myriad dresses of colors ranging from somewhat normal to absolutely gaudy and everything in between, not to mention things that her sister has cautioned against wearing openly in public.
- Admiral Piff: Few are the times in which Requiem has left the ship in any regard, least of all for a mission. Piff is one of the reasons why. Three years back, while out in the jungles of a backwater world in the Outer Rim, she was asked to come along due to her natural affinity with animals and because they were hunting what was rumored to be a particularly nasty beast. The mission went off without issue, as it happened to simply be a woefully lost Bantha, but on the way back Requiem found herself a small egg, and when it hatched the crew found themselves saddled with a gizka. While Solace herself isn't particularly fond of it, she has laid down the rules regarding any possible harm that may befall it for the sake of her sister. It is also the only one other than her that is allowed to sit in the captain's chair or wear the moff's hat.
| {Physical Abilities} |
- Unarmed Combat: Where her sister lacks only in stamina for physical combat, Requiem instead lacks of strength and ability when it comes to armed combat. The use of a lightsaber or weapon has never appealed to her or come to her quite as naturally as it has for her sister. Yet, she does have one advantage and a skill that she has honed over a decade of practice. Calling back to the basic principles of what the Jedi Order once stood upon, she has chosen to forego the blade in favor of the open palm. Using even limited force powers to augment her own speed and barriers when necessary, she can hold her own in a defensive posture and deflect not just blaster bolts and projectiles, but also bladed weapons. Through tutaminis she can even parry lightsabers, slap them aside or grasp them to keep an opponent occupied long enough for a disabling blow. True, it is often a last resort for her, but experience has taught to be prepared for the least desirable outcome in negotiations.
| {Force Abilities} |
- Force Healing - Shatterpoint - Animal Friendship - Battle Meditation - Force Barrier - Emerald Lightning - Tutaminis - Force Deflection - Stasis Field - Force Valor - Force Protection - Alter Environment
- Precognition: As some of the masters did before the Jedi Purge, Requiem is able to peruse the futures to a limited extent. Casting herself into the force and scrying ahead by hours or days, she can see possibilities caused by ripples set in motion by either her own actions or those around her. She can even cast herself backwards when deep enough in meditation, looking over events already in play or played out across the galaxy. While this gift could be useful in many regards, and as one in the crew has suggested before to be very lucrative, she most often displays it as a way to avoid danger. It is in fact, the reason why a woman with little knowledge in astrogation or piloting in general is the navigator of their company. Able to look ahead hours before reaching a destination can prove vital when not in the favor of the Empire.
- Natural Affinity: Ever since she was a child the force has been something that Requiem has had an intimate connection to. It flows through and around her as if part of her, and control of it is as second nature to her as breathing is for everyone else. Without even thinking of it she can channel healing energies into the wounded or erect barriers to shelter others from harm. Sometimes literally transitioning to one after the other and without effort. This natural connection is why her and her sister were selected first by the Luka Sene and then the Jedi Order. Her experiences with both groups only honed her abilities and taught her of all the possibilities before her. Techniques just learned of that would take any other years to master, come to her grasp within just a few sessions of training. Sometimes she even displays powers thought lost to time without even trying, as happened when the Battle Meditation technique came to her during a particularly nasty incident early on in the days of the mercenary company.
- Intangible Index: Perhaps what may be her greatest gift through the force however, is something far more subtle than portents of the near future or a natural gift for its control. While her skills and abilities are limited to a very particular set, and she has never shown much progress in learning anything further, what she does have is the ability to learn and understand most languages simply by listening. First displayed at a young age while still with the Jedi Order, it came as a surprise to some when she had shown an understanding of Togruta, despite her only contact with one of the species being in the order and not once taking lessons on the language. When confronted by the master Shak-ti, she explained that she had heard her speaking to another and while at first didn't understand, the more it was spoken around her the more she could. Since then she has picked up a few more, including Trandoshan which has been of great use to her and a source of comfort for one in particular on the crew who she has been teaching common to.
| {Limitations} |
- Fragile: By nature Requiem dislikes conflict, and especially of the physical kind. It is not just on principle that she tries to avoid it though. When her barriers fall, her defenses finally broken and a hit lands the reason for her sister's fierce devotion is shown clearly. Unlike Solace who can, and has, simply shrug off a wound and keep fighting, when struck bones break like glass and cuts refuse to clot on their own. Even the slightest blow can bruise, and on occasion she has awoken with bruises simply by sleeping the wrong way or tossing too much in her sleep. Though it can be treated to a degree and made more tolerable in the short term, as it is a genetic disorder there is little than can be done long term. What is more unfortunate is that while it is very much a non-issue for baseline humans and other near-humans, the Miralukan biology requires more specialized medicine. Specialized medicine that is tightly controlled by the Empire and quite obvious as to who would be taking it.
- Lightsaber combat: In addition to simply not being built for it, Requiem is quite lucky that she even knows which end is the business end of a lightsaber. To her last days in the academy and their entire exile of sorts in the Outer Rim, she has routinely proven to be inept with a weapon in her hands and unable to parry the most obviously forecasted attacks. Luckily for her she has adapted to other ways and rarely ever has to even pick up a lightsaber, though it can be argued that it is more lucky for those around her.
- Adaptability: It can be said and often has, that the few things she understands, she understands better than most. Through years of training she can use her hands to fight not just one person, but multiples and even has one occasion bested her sister. Her command of the force was something the masters had rarely seen before while the Jedi Order still stood, and since the purge she has only become more adept with it. From that first glance, it would seem that if it were not for her pacifist and loving nature, she would be nigh unstoppable, and perhaps rightly so. Those who live and work with her know better though. In addition to being fragile to the point where it has been jokingly suggested that she be wrapped with pillows before leaving the ship, learning new things has never been easy for her. What little she knows is about the extent of her learning, and even with daily practice new skills simply slip away from her as flowing water through her fingertips. Always to the newer members of the crew it comes as a surprise when the mirror image of their captain is seen struggling with a datapad, having to count on her fingers when faced with basic arithmetic or losing her way in a new port. Solace is nearly always close at hand though, and some of the more veteran members have even taken to looking after her in much the same way, ensuring that she is never lost for long.
A far cry from her sister who keeps secrets within secrets, weaves lies upon lies in order to get her way and keep those she values safe, Requiem is instead a completely open book. Rarely does she ever keep her feelings to herself, speaking openly of her opinion on something even if it might be just a little too open. This is shown most clearly from the near perpetual smile on her lips. It is perhaps her most telling and obvious feature, that she draws from a boundless well of energy and positivity, able to find a silver lining no matter the circumstance, and no matter who she is speaking to. Even those who had mere moments before been hostile are subject to her kindness and compassion. Day to day her faith is unshakable, always joyous for another day of adventure and looking forward to their next destination.
It is little wonder that some may not exactly trust her due to her sister's way of doing things, or how easily that very same smile slips into something devious, but it is to a fault that she is honest. She may not even be capable of telling a lie, such is the depths of her honesty and Solace feels it entirely possible that she may not understand it. That comes in part due to the trauma of the Jedi Purge and their narrow escape. Where her sister became more protective and paranoid like so many others, something inside Requiem broke under the stress of so much suffering in the galaxy. For a long while afterward she had remained quiet and withdrawn, but when she finally did surface it was if she had mentally not aged a day. Ever since she has found it easy to see the joy in things, even more so than she had before, and had trouble adapting to more complicated subjects. Deceit is one of those, and not only when it comes to her being able to lie to others. She is often far too trusting of everyone around her, especially those who talk softly and act a friend. This has gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion, and a few of which Solace has had to step in to keep her safe. Yet still, while she may be just a bit simple, she does mean well and her compassion is honest.
| {Shared Force Abilities} |
- Art of Movement - Breath Control - Center of Being - Force Speed - Enhanced Force Sight: Unlike others of their kind, both sisters can also interpret colors. - Force Telekinesis - Mind Trick(Solace's is less effective than her sister's)
- Force Bond: Formed at an early age, the twins always had a connection to each other that was rooted deeply in the force. At first a detriment in ways, requiring them to be physically close to one another or they would start suffering emotional or physical distress, it has been honed into something else entirely. With the help of the Jedi, they were able to lessen their dependence on one another, while strengthening their bond so that they would always know where the other was. No sister can ever be lost to the other, able to see through the force to always find her other half, and they can share feelings and thoughts without even being in proximity. It does still come with significant downsides however, as the force has always been known as a superb conductor of trauma, and the bond communicates it well. Whatever suffering one sister feels, the other will as well, as if she was there with her, and their former master held many reservations about allowing it to remain fully intact. While they have yet to encounter such a scenario, Zentraedies counseled strongly against forming lasting bonds with others, for the emotional damage that a loss could have on them both.
| {Place of Origin} |
Born on Alpheridies like most of their kind, the sisters began their life in the peace of the gentle rolling hills outside the cities. There they spent their first six years simply being children and growing up without a care in the world. Both took to their schooling with the same enthusiasm as they did to play, making friends and dreaming of all the things they would be when grown up. Often enough they look back on those days, Solace in particular as that time was so much simpler. For her it was a life where she imagined herself someday as Verra Alleron, perhaps a name of importance on their homeworld and even in the Republic. To her sister, she knew that she just wanted to bring happiness to all those around her, even back then.
Yet like all things, one day it came to an end. As all those with force-sensitivity were of interest to the Jedi Order, Miraluka in particular were often a source of new initiates. Early on they had been introduced into the Luka Sene and took the first steps into the force that would change their lives forever. Solace had shown little aptitude, but her sister was doted on by all the masters for the feats she had shown even as a small child. In truth, if it hadn't been for the force bond keeping them close together, only Requiem would have ever taken on that new name and joined into the Jedi Order. Of course, it didn't play out that way, and both sisters had drawn the attention of another Miralukan with the order. It was then just before they both turned seven that Master Iain Zentraedies introduced them to the Jedi.
| {Background} |
When first entering the Jedi Order most initiates are taught first and foremost that they must let go of their former bonds, to look towards the force and rely not on things such as emotion and passion. So it is that under ideal circumstances they strove to avoid involving families in the order, and rarely brought in siblings especially at the same time. This was to ensure that the natural bonds they formed did not interfere in training, did not affect their minds later in the order and allowed them to stay closer to the light side of the force. As with any other pair of siblings, the twins were at first separated despite the protests of them and the master Zentraedies. It had been obvious that some kind of bond connected the two, and as much had been spoken of by the Luka Sene when they released the sisters to the Order. How strong it was had been underestimated however, and almost as soon as they had been separated did it become clear to everyone.
It began with the first few weeks where the sisters both became temperamental. Solace, ever the talker at that age and always personable, became withdrawn and sullen. She didn't speak to anyone except when absolutely necessary and steadily as the weeks went on started to pale even more so than normal. Her sister was no better off. Where one had fallen into despair, the other was uncooperative and upset at the slightest touch. She too took ill after the second week, suffering from body pains that at first were reflected upon her sister. The masters were concerned with these developments, but still reticent to reunite them, as few were willing to bend the code. That changed when it was discovered that Solace fell into a deep sleep from which nothing could awaken her. All the talents of the medical corps were at a loss, finding that her body was perfectly healthy yet her mind and soul unresponsive. Only then did the advice of Zentraedies finally come into play, and as soon as the twins were reunited both of them showed a remarkable turn in health.
The nature of force-bonds in the order had always been a bit of a mystery, as for how much they learned and thought they understood there was so much more yet to learn. Zentraedies had been a careful observer of dozens of such bonds in his long life, scribing several books on the subject and offering many theories on how they come to be. In the twins he found something unique, a bond that had existed since birth and made the two codependent on the other. When one felt pain or sadness, so too did the other. Where one felt joy and pride, the other soared on her good aura to the benefit of both. So he explained to the council that at such a young age, they didn't understand the full depth of the Jedi Code, and couldn't be expected to sacrifice their bond of sisterhood without time to adjust. Their desire to remain close to each other had reflected on their bond, and every moment apart from the other worsened their health until finally they were reunited. While true, he surmised, to keep them apart long enough might have broken that bond, he also proposed that the one may have never awoken from her coma and they would be blamed forever by one of their most promising students.
After all was settled and with no small amount of concern, the council decided not only to reunite the sisters, but to continue their training under Zentraedies. It was a rare case for sure, to take in two young students and nearly immediately elevate them to padawans, but he had assured them that he could turn the sisters into valued members of the order. Both sisters were confused at first, but the familiar presence of the master helped them ease into a routine. Not to mention that him being Miraluka as well helped significantly towards making them feel a little more comfortable at the academy.
For several years they trained there, learning of the basics and understanding the ways of the force beyond what they had been taught back home on Alpheridies. Though he knew the council disapproved, he treated them as family and as if they were his own daughters, easing them steadily into the order. It would not come entirely easy though, as he had agreed to take on all of their training on his own. Requiem was hesitant and lacking in confidence, always second-guessing herself despite a natural affinity with the force. Through a steady hand and near infinite patience he was able to show her that she had a gift, teaching her of first basic telekinetics and then healing. Once she found her way, there was little to keep her from diving in with a passion. Within those few years she had went from barely able to focus, to assembling her own lightsaber through the force, healing dire wounds without leaving scars and even layering force barriers.
Solace on the other hand, well she had never shown an aptitude with the force and Zentraedies knew that her talents would take a long time to develop. It had concerned him at first that perhaps he would have to stall the more gifted sister so as to keep them together, make sure that only when both were ready that they took the trials together. The moment she found a training saber and spun it hand over hand, that thought died. Though her mother and father had always frowned upon it, she had always loved to stick-fight with the boys of the village, imagining herself one of the palace guard. That love for play-fighting came to the fore when she first faced off against the sparring droids. Each swing felt more and more natural, each time she became better and better at avoiding the stinging bolts of the droid. It took barely a year for her to find her own gift, surprising observers with just how quickly she picked up the basic forms.
When it came time to build herself a lightsaber, she surprised them again when she chosen something quite unorthodox. Knowing it was not what most did, she constructed a lightsaber-pike and showed off for everyone to see on the day. Twirling it around overhead, she parried and deflected everything coming at her until with a single slash she dispatched the training droid at last. It was then that Zentraedies knew that he had nothing else to teach her when it came to lightsaber combat, laughing it off as his old age when explaining to her the need to seek training from others. She had devoted herself to it in full, in between lessons from the varied blademasters of the order keeping herself physically fit through a ruthless exercise regime.
It wasn't all lightsabers and weights for Solace or telekine exercises and mind-puzzles for Requiem though. As they advanced in the Jedi Order and found their own unique callings, they also spent time out of every day to learn of their bond in the force. At first when they had come to the order, it was for their own health that they stay close and never stray too far. Zentraedies explained as much when it was felt they would understand that, knowing after some time among other Jedi they would know more of themselves and why. When they did, and had an understanding of the unique gift they had, he began to teach them of all the things they could do with something that no one else had. He taught them that it didn't have to be a tether, a literal chain keeping them together. It could give them strength, and with practice they could always be close without having to be in the same room or even the same planet. With the ever-growing disappointment of the Jedi Council, he was gradually able to help them solidify their bond, teaching them to share more than just emotions. Requiem was the first, as she was always adept in all things force related, and shared her own memory of the night they were told of their acceptance into the Jedi Order.
Solace, surprised at seeing herself through her sister's eyes took to the teachings as well, sharing her own memory of the night and from there everything changed. No more did they need to stay physically close. Their bond was stronger than it had ever been, and so too was their bond of sisterhood. Everything they went through was shared between each other, their passions and dreams mingling along with their memories until there truly were no secrets between the sisters. There Solace first discovered her true desire and why she had taken so strongly to the lightsaber. It was there in those last few nights before their trials that she learned all she wanted was to keep her sister safe and would do anything to ensure it.
As it did for all, it would eventually come time to take their trials to become Jedi Knights and enter into one of the varied orders. Though at the time still young at ten, they had not only shown promise beyond their years, but it was a turbulent time for the galaxy as a whole. For a few years before the troubles of a growing separatist movement had been stirring conflict until full blown war erupted. The council fearing the potential involvement of the Sith behind it, the Jedi had become involved and acting as generals within the Republic army despite the Ruusan Reformations forbidding it. To the twins this was certainly on their minds as they were told of their selection for the trials, though it was quickly overshadowed by the scale of what that meant for them. To be a Jedi Knight would mean it entirely possible they would be separated, and despite it being less unhealthy a prospect as before, it was still something neither sister wanted. Nonetheless, Solace was first up and she took the Sentinel trials for her desire to protect. In all her time among the order she had been preparing herself for this moment. Early in 20BBY as the Clone Wars raged across the galaxy, she began the first real battle of her life.
It would be the hardest fight she had faced to the point, and even afterwards looking back on it. First was the test of forms, a warm-up of sorts merely to ensure her remedial knowledge was up to par. Each one she flowed through with her particular grace, from the most basic to her own adapted form to a round of reserved applause from the sitting masters. A dozen of them sat in observance, among them the recognized blademasters of the order and several she had trained with personally. Despite the pressures of being in such company, she had her sister silently giving support from beyond where her own master sat waiting. From there it only got more intense of course, and as one by one she was challenged, she took down each with a ruthless efficiency. When the sixth conceded, they turned to the holograms partly out of concern with how close each time she had come to actually injuring one of the instructors.
There she proved not just that she had the skill and tenacity, but that she had been restraining herself. Propelled by aggression, she outright killed the first hologram with her pike embedded through the construct's chest, withdrawing it to send the second and third reeling with a series of pommel strikes that effectively knocked them out of the combat. Solace reveled in the battle as she found herself more than merely enjoying the victory that came with each soft ping of the defeated hologram dissipating, but of the fight itself. More and more she shouted out and took on increasing numbers until the central pit was an all out brawl. Her lightsaber hewed through one mass as her fist connected with the face of another, never stopping as she flowed as if running water. When silence at last dominated the trial, there was but one left. Meant as a simulation of an impossible foe, the masters had given her a replica of one of the greatest blademasters to have ever lived based off records in the great library. Ajunta Pall stood before her in replica form, lightsabers ignited and matching her stance with his own.
At first they simply circled, the adaptive learning program taking into account her every move beforehand and weaving it into that of her newest opponent. The masters watched and waited, ready to intervene in case the fight became too dangerous, but Solace would not let it come to that. With a battlecry she leapt in for the first blow, slamming the stave end of her lightsaber-pike in an overhead blow only to slip away from the counter and begin the dance. Blows rang out like rain across the roof of the temple, both weaving in and out of stances to counter the other. Where the hologram took an offensive stance, she parried as best she could and waited to press her own advantage. There he would take on the defensive role as she was relentless in her assault, pressing hard and fast to put the hologram on the backfoot. Each time, though Solace herself was clearly tiring and losing out on the battle of attrition, she had worked her opponent steadily towards where she wanted him. Then, as the fourth assault came, she stunned the onlookers as she struck out suddenly and the hologram's head rolled across the floor severed from its body.
To say the response to her display was mixed would have been generous. Having witnessed such brutality there in the temple itself, several advocated outright for her to be expelled entirely from the order. It wasn't exactly an unpopular sentiment either, as the trial had been shown to other masters observing from the field elsewhere in the galaxy. In the end it came to a vote among those in observance of the trial itself and those instructors who fought her directly. Though exactly how close she came to being exiled was never told to her and has since been lost due to the Jedi Purge, she did pass and her padawan braid was cut to signify her advancement. That news was not welcome to all, but one in particular was nearly beside herself with joy and to Solace that was the only one who's opinion truly counted. Embracing one another, they enjoyed the interim between trials and made solemn vows to do their best to stay close no matter their assignments afterward.
Encouraged and emboldened by her sister, for once Requiem took to a task with a confidence that was quite unlike her. Just like she had done for her, Solace was there in spirit for her, whispering through their bond her support. For her though it was an entirely different trial, as she had chosen the Consulars for her skill with the force. Before her would be three tests, all of the mind and her ability to command the force. First and perhaps the most arduous was one of concentration and patience. A great holopuzzle was placed before her, pieces minute and intricate within a multi-level structure that left little room for error. Any mistake of movement or placement would also reset the entire piece, the puzzle vibrating apart to dislodge all the placed pieces. Knowing what was before her and how important this trial was, for once the more energetic of the sisters calmed herself and closed off all distractions around her. For hours she sat in the archives, the puzzle floating before her, twisting and turning with the touch of her mind as each piece was put in place. Unlike with Solace there were rarely observers there for long, only a few here and there to watch and ensure she wasn't cheating or receiving help from others. Closed off as she was, she didn't even notice until finally the last piece clicked into place and a soft warmth flowed from the completed puzzle to the soft applause of a dozen onlookers. Not one for praise, she had merely blushed and thanked them before running off to find the masters for the next stage in her trial.
It was at this point that things became a little more complicated but at the same time easier for her. Faced with the growing intensity of the war and an increasing need for skilled medics, the Consulars temporarily suspended her trial in order to send her to the Galactic City Medical Center. Already overwhelmed with wounded brought in from almost a sector away due to the need for specialist care, numerous Jedi wove among medical professionals to lend whatever aid they could. It was there in the heart of it that she showed her compassion, healing all she came across no matter who they had fought for. Republic or Separatist, soldier or citizen. Who they fought for or if they fought at all was not a concern, all that mattered was that they were suffering and it was within her power to ease that suffering. For hours she worked among the sick and dying until nearly collapsing on her feet and having to be told to return to the temple. When she had returned it had been expected that she would ask when her trials would resume, or if that had been enough. Instead she merely asked when she should arrive the next day and how she could be of more help. Humbled a little by her compassion and dedication to the core principles of the Jedi Code, it was agreed unanimously that she be passed there and then into knighthood.
For all that there was to celebrate, there was little time in which to do so for the sisters. War raged across the galaxy, setting alight entire sectors from the Outer Rim to the very Core itself. Without the excuse of being padawans both of them were assigned to a division of clone troopers and sent out to assist in the war effort. So much lay before them, and they knew that they were still quite young in the grand scheme of things and with much to learn, but there was a duty that had to be fulfilled. Boarding a CR70 corvette, they said goodbye to their friends at the temple and looked upon it for what they felt like the last time. Little did they know that it would be.
It was out in the Outer Rim defending a medical outpost that the first ripples were felt, barely a month into their assignment. Requiem being more sensitive and always looking into the force in order to aid those around her had seen it first. A dark shadow obscuring everything it touched, spreading from the core until she could see nothing beyond that moment. Even her sister had felt it, feeling strangely cold as she stood with the clone commander and heard the soft chirp of his personal communicator. As he turned to leave and receive the updated orders, she was left with a decision. Everything in her compelled her to run, a basic instinct crying out that she was in danger and that her sister was too. Yet she and her sister had been with these clones for a month now, and though they were a bit rigid in their interpretation of orders, they seemed just as much a living person as her. That moment of indecision nearly cost her her life, the clone putting away the communicator and reaching for his pistol.
Perhaps if it had not been for that one motion that she knew immediately as hostile, he might have lived and cut her down. Instead she drew a shoto-lightsaber first and plunged it into his helmet, flicking it on and off fast enough to kill but not draw too much attention. Even before the body slumped to the ground she was on the move, panic setting in her heart as she raced towards her sister. Luckily she was not far and the other clones had not received their updated orders yet, merely staring curiously at the two as they burst out of the medical quarters and towards the waiting CR70. It didn't take long though, and even as the cries of dozens of their fellow jedi sounded out into the force, they had to focus on their own survival. Blaster fire hailed towards them, Requiem pushed in front of her sister as a few found their mark in her back. Both barely made it, the ramp closing behind them as Solace urged her sister to focus on patching her up and getting her well enough to fly.
That she didn't entirely know how to fly a starship of that size was beyond concern at that point, as she knew that any moment starfighters would be retasked to take out the CR70. With all the grace of a novice pilot, she fired up the engines and the ship punched its way through the hangar bay doors, sending clones and burning metal sailing across the grounds even as they angled upwards and made their escape.
As narrow as it was, they knew that they were safe for the moment and once in hyperspace could find the time to understand what had just happened. Solace felt her mind reeling as so many were cut off from the force all at once, many friends and close connections that she had formed in her time at the temple. For her, it was that moment when she first truly felt the darkness dwelling within her, a small corruption of her soul that led her away from the teachings of the Jedi. She steeled her heart then in that moment, closing herself off from all others except her sister and her master, a determination growing to push her towards a singular goal. Requiem though, she fared far worse. Pain had wracked her already frail body, the disconnection of so many that she had known and enjoyed the friendship of wreaking havoc on her mind. The sheer trauma of it had shattered her grasp on the present, and even as her sister came to her help, she passed out there in the co-pilot's chair never to awake quite the same again.
Though shaken by the events that had almost cost them their lives, and now feeling if not knowing that Republic space would not be safe for them, Solace had to take them somewhere, as they couldn't stay in hyperspace forever. Only one place came to mind as a safe haven, and even then she felt it might not be permanent. It was where she had felt the presence of another survivor, and more importantly a place that would hopefully keep her sister's condition from worsening. Alpheridies.
Even cut off from the rest of the galaxy by The Veil and a few days after the events of The Jedi Purge, the normally calm and serene atmosphere of home felt distinctly off the moment they set down just outside the city. Within several Republic vessels lingered with a menace that wasn't entirely displayed but felt all the same by all their people. Solace had little time to deal with them though, and sought out their master, finding him in a refuge with a few others who had come for his guidance. Explaining the direness of her sister's condition, the two made their way back to the ship where Zentraedies found her still passed out. While many of the survivors had been significantly impacted, empaths most of all as he explained, most had managed to escape without significant damage. A few among them had not fared as well, and that was why he had remained on the Miralukan homeworld, tending to what he called "injuries of the soul". Requiem being a more tender sort and an empath at that, had suffered more than others. When so many died so suddenly, and others in pain as they fought desperately for survival, she had shared in their suffering. All of it all at once had been more than she could ever bear, even with all the training the order could have offered. It took him a full day and night with medical assistants tending to her body as he helped stabilize her mind, but she finally awoke and seemed oblivious to what had happened.
It had been as if the two of them had never left the Jedi Temple that day, as if they had not been turned upon by those they trusted, and as if dozens of friends and nearly everyone they had known weren't yanked from them in a single moment. She had seemed as if all the years of training that they had gone through that brought about a clarity of purpose, had never even happened. Even the smile of her youth returned, and that was when Solace knew that while she had her sister back, she was not the same. The damage to her mind had been severe, leaving scars that could not be healed and yet were not physical all the same. It had set her back by years, and as Zentraedies had explained, she wouldn't mature in the same way she had with the order, if at all. Memories the two had shared now lingered with just Solace, doing what she could to hold onto what she felt her sister would need or want the most, and understanding it would take a long time to restore what little she could. At least for the moment it would not be alone, as knowing the two would need some help their master promised to go with them and guide them along for a time.
For a couple years it was just the three of them, focusing on learning how to adapt to the changing galaxy and watching on as the Republic died and the Empire rose from the ashes. There would be plenty of the latter they would find, as holovids began to circulate of the destruction of the Jedi Order and more and more the propaganda machine eased into motion. Each year brought new lies to life, first that the Jedi had made an attempt on the Chancellor's life, then that they had plotted a takeover of the Republic, and more dire accusations that left Solace with a foul taste in her mouth until finally she decided not to even bother with it all. A coldness set in, seeing that for all the Jedi had preached of peace and defending the galaxy, they couldn't even defend themselves. She felt bitter, and the only thing that kept her mind from settling too deep within that cynicism was her sister and doing what she could for her. That was perhaps the only thing keeping her from falling completely to the dark side like so many of her kind, and even still the temptation was there and always calling. The Empire made no secret of their employ of the Miraluka, killing those who refused their offers all the while parading about the turncoats as agents of a new order.
Eventually she had to get away from it all, and they set a course for the deep Outer Rim, where for the first time a real life seemed possible. Out there among the lawless expanse of space, little had changed from before. True piracy, smuggling and outright dissent seemed rampant no matter where their ship settled down, but the only difference was that while the Republic had turned a blind eye to it all, the Empire seemed desperate in their attempts at "taming the Outer Rim". Zentraedies counseled caution, but he had felt the shift in her aura by now and knew that more and more he was seen as a remnant of the old. As her sister remained safe in the ship with their master, she explored and began to take in all that was before her. Each planet offered a new lesson, all she had to do was be willing enough to learn and do whatever it took to earn what she felt was due. Some like Nar Shadaa were bustling hives that taught her the value of putting on a face, and it was there at sixteen that she underwent her first surgery to implant cybernetic eyes, understanding that she would need to hide her heritage if she was ever to truly blend in. Her sister would not see that at first, and only did so much later when it was a little more convenient and necessary.
As they grew older and Solace turned from just a girl fresh from training at the Jedi Temple into a woman already knowing the basics of a cruel galaxy, Zentraedies began to see that he was needed less and less. A man bumbling about with two much younger women looked odd, and he was never quite as good at faking blindness as some were which led to their disguise looking much weaker than it already was. So with a heavy heart, goodbyes were said and he left the twins with one last lesson. While her sister rested, Solace listened to his last advice on trusting those around her. For though it was prudent never to truly trust anyone in the Outer Rim, he cautioned to always keep a few loyal connections just in case. Then he was off, leaving her with a way of contacting him and wishing a long life to her and her sister.
Now alone but for the company of each other, the sisters set about making a living the only way they knew how. Requiem didn't entirely like it, but there was a market for those who knew how to fight and had a willingness to employ such skills. The first few bounties were scarce and rather small on credits offered, but Solace took them all the same. A bit of roughing up here, some intimidation there and food was on the table, fuel was in the tank. It wasn't by any means steady work, as more than once they went a few months without and had to make do, but it was something they could do on their own and without relying on anyone other than themselves. As time went on, Solace picked up more and more on the intricacies of life in the Outer Rim, at first finding that a frown didn't get her near as far as a steady and even expression, then that even a fake smile would make others more amenable to negotiation. It didn't always work, but everything was a lesson now, and she still had a sharp mind even if she couldn't put her lightsaber skills to use as much as she wanted.
Eventually as the galaxy had changed, so did she and became something else entirely. Though still a Jedi by all right and rank, she eschewed the robes and lightsaber that marked her out obviously and almost eagerly fell in with the scum and villainy of the Outer Rim. Killing started to come easy to her, stealing more so and lying was as if breathing. It became all the more obvious when in 11BBY everything had seemed to be going so well for them. They had functional, if run down, decently sized starship that could ferry enough freight to cover food expenses when bounties were dry, and more than that had each other. While the Empire was always wary of them, they weren't actively hunted like some of the more prominent former Jedi, and they even managed to make contact with a few here and there to keep lines of communication open and make emergency plans. It had seemed as if everything was as it should be, just two sisters living life on their own and without much of a worry beyond what was on the horizon. That was until they made the choice to take on a contract which had all the warning signs that should have been listened to, but were ignored anyways.
Setting down at a small station in the middle of the deep Outer Rim amid one of the seasonal storms of a backwater world, the twins had been given an extraction mission that read like all the others. Someone was where they weren't welcome or safe, and a client needed them out of that area and somewhere more secure before more attention fell upon them. It was something that had been done before, Solace preferred them for how easy they normally ran. Only here and there had she ever run into trouble, and once she waved a blaster in the face of some poor thug just barely younger than her, that trouble was usually resolved. Here though, on this mission, things were just a little different. Some broker or fence was never too important she thought, and their names no matter how much they seemed to go for out on the Rim never seemed to matter. This man though… She knew his name immediately. It had been on one of the rare missions Zentraedies took her and her sister along on back when they were with the Order, a diplomatic visit out in the middle of nowhere to see how a senator was faring in troubling times.
Senators were always important, and though she was assured his captors were just thugs, she had the feeling that it was more than that. Perhaps the Imperial Fleet hanging overhead in orbit were a sign or five, or maybe the walkers stationed outside the borders of the settlement accompanied by stormtroopers. She could pass as human for sure to avoid attention, and their ship had years back been re-registered as legal salvage from a battlefield, but as the Empire seemed all around them, it became clear that this was quite different from their normal missions. The broker had promised more information once she reached the planet, but all they received was the assumed location of the senator and some Imperial diplomatic codes in case things went south. A direction that she was feeling more and more likely, even an insistence in the back of her mind that said to take off and leave right then and there. Solace ignored it all the same, understanding that there was a need for credits, and up until this point they had never had too many issues with the Empire.
With only a few words of caution to her sister to keep to the ship and the station, she set out to find her target. It wouldn't take too long, as he was held in the villa of a local aristocrat displaced by the Empire. What would take a bit and some doing was all the stormtroopers, and all the while there was that sense that things were off on this world. In the meantime, her sister took to exploring as her Miralukan desires to do so compelled her. By now she had been convinced by Solace to be fitted with cybernetic eyes, and though wearing them still felt weird she had practiced enough to not look too out of place. It was both to her fortune and misfortune that it was so, as she didn't appear to the average person as Miraluka and without force senses there truly was no way to tell otherwise. Taking to the local cantina, at first she was enamored with the stories of the various travelers, accepting a few drinks from some overly friendly sorts and listening to tales of their journey across the stars. Even the first couple officers of the Imperial Navy were alright enough, talking her ear off on the glory of their service and how they were doing their duty to keep the peace. Things turned sour when her natural empath abilities caught on to some vibes from the Imperials that she wasn't entirely comfortable with, and one who called himself a Moff was being a little too forward. A comment here and a brush against her there, and she found herself looking for the exit in a hurry and moving.
By this point, Solace had found the senator, incapacitated a dozen stormtroopers and was nearly back to the spaceport when she felt the unease from her sister. It had nearly knocked her off her feet, having been focused at first on the mission and when she realized that she was in danger, all she had to do was tell the senator to run and he understood. Both of them raced across the muddy road as the storm picked up, sheeting rain blurring his vision while hers was true. Requiem was steadily heading back to the ship, her anxiety radiating off her in waves as the officers and their moff followed, calling for her to come back with at first mere jeers and catcalls until things turned hostile. A threat was made, blaster pulled and both sisters were very nearly within sight of each other. As Solace turned the corner, lightning issued forth from outstretched fingers, arcing across the soaked distance to slam into the man. Smoke issued from the five wounds in his torso, silence except for the storm and natural thunder sounding in the distance. It didn't last long as the officers sounded the alarm and a panic set over the station.
Through blasterfire and with alarms ringing overhead, the sisters and the senator took cover and worked out their next move. Of course the first thing the Imperials had done was lock down the starport, effectively cutting them off from their ship. Already she knew there were stormtroopers boarding to search their belongings, and that meant the very real danger of being outed as Jedi. The trio decided then to make that their first move, silently avoiding encircling patrols and making their way to the CR70 to grab what they could. Lightsabers, armor, credits and the few personal belongings they could carry were packed into bags and carried off right before the first stormtroopers arrived, pouring into the ship and searching for whatever they could find. Their ship was effectively no longer theirs, and even if they could have made it out of the station, the star destroyers overhead would have shot them out of the sky if they were lucky. Solace knew they needed another way out, as for sure they couldn't just sit there and wait. It was then that the senator actually had a solution for them, and as much as it was one that was almost as bad, it was bold enough that it could work.
Opposite the commercial hangar was the Imperial garrison, and so focused were they on finding the trio that they hadn't put their own base on lockdown. The bays were just sitting there, open and with only a few guards standing around looking every bit as if they wished they were out there instead. Solace took the bags from the senator and carried them herself as she did what she could to make both him and her sister look just a little more presentable in the harsh weather. With all the boldness that the Outer Rim had instilled in her, she approached in the open to the hangar, pointing at the parked CR90 with engines idling and the senator putting on his best impression of a pompous ass. It took little more than a mild jab with the force to make them believe she was escorting the local governor to his quarters aboard the ship so he could meet with the moff in orbit. Nevermind that the moff was dead and planetside, she knew that basic troopers like that would be given only enough information to do their duty and little more. It had worked and even to the point of the troopers calling in dockworkers to carry their things to the diplomatic suite. With only a little more manipulation of the mind and calming her frantic sister now that they were somewhat safe, they had a new ship and were taking off from a wretched backwater that very nearly proved the end of them.
For the next few months they laid low, keeping to the far outer regions of the Outer Rim and only stopping at planets where the Empire kept a minimal presence if one at all. Word had spread of what happened on the outpost, and by now Solace's face was plastered across Imperial bounty boards for the murder of the moff. That she had also stolen a ship was mentioned, but at that point it was a drop in the ocean. The senator they had saved proved useful though, and for more than just the initial payout for saving his life. Showing his gratitude, he had introduced the sisters to his backers who were surprisingly other senators and various influential people within the Empire itself. As they explained, their group opposed the blatant dictatorship that had taken over their republic and wished to restore it to what it once was. They were few and among wolves, but held adamant beliefs that they could make a difference one way or another. With some assistance, the transponder codes for the CR90 were altered and the ship was given a new name. More than that though, Solace was given a lot to think on with this new information. A credible resistance was forming and had been since the announcement of the new order. These were honest people looking to do some good and make a difference, and from what she saw in desperate need for people with her skills.
The temptation to join up with the resistance was put to rest for a while, choosing instead to keep to freelancing once the heat died down. What she did take to hear though was that going solo was no longer as much of an option. Trying to take on every job alone had worked well enough, but she realized that in truth she had been lucky even with her Jedi training and unique skill set. More than that, she knew that if she was out on a mission, she couldn't do that and keep watch on her sister all at the same time. Solace thought long and hard on what sat before her. They had a ship now that was by far larger than they needed for just the two of them, and her reputation was already decent enough that she could rely on the contacts she had to do right by her. All she needed to do was say the right words, make the right offers and there would be no shortage of equally skilled individuals ready to join up. First there was the small matter of that bounty, and the fact that going about as a Jedi with a Jedi sister would raise far too many questions and draw all the wrong kinds of attention.
So it was that The Mariner was born. Coalescing from several covers she had used over the last few years, she created a new one that would serve as first point of contact and the only one for many. Solace was a name that, while known by more than a few good bounty hunters and smugglers, was also sought after by the Empire and assumed a force-user. That meant that wherever mentioned, inquisitors and Imperial Intelligence were not far behind. No, she needed to be seen as anything but a force-user and so she allowed a few months for reputation to build up a formidable woman known as both ruthless and cunning, out to gather a crew. She whispered her words into the ears of a few trusted contacts, gave them her intentions and let the rumor mill do the rest. Before long she was sat behind a desk at a station in dark space and interviewing her first, and perhaps the most interesting of the lot even afterwards.
Many varied applicants had come forward as had been expected, some a bit more violent and without moral than she had liked, but almost all in a desperate need. A couple mechanics were acquired on contract, some muscle to do some odd jobs with possibility of permanent hire and a particularly dashing smuggler who knew how to pilot capital ships. What had perhaps been the most interesting though, was the last possible thing she thought was necessary. For a good few months she had waited out on Anchorage building up her reputation, and like all others on the station she had been drawn to First Port to have a drink and food. It was of course, the very first bar on one's way out of the starport, so it was either that or walk a good ways to the others. Now, one might be excused in thinking that the food from a bar out in the distant outer rim on a rogue planet would be just barely passable, but rumor had been circulating that a new cook had come by and the quality had jumped significantly. Tasting it for herself, she had to agree as surprisingly the cantina actually managed something edible for once.
Not many had been keen on the details of why or how it was that First Port found a way to make something edible without copious amounts of alcohol or spice, merely appreciating it as a temporary calm in the storm so to speak. Solace was one of those people, just accepting it as it were until word came down to her as the Mariner that a local chef was looking to join the crew. The ship did have a functional canteen, a full complement to cater to the needs of dignitaries as it might have once done, but until then she never thought to actually use it. With an open mind she had called in the applicant, only to be completely baffled by what stood before her. Now, until that moment she had thought she had an idea on what Trandoshans were and what they did in the galaxy. Most people saw them as mercenaries out to hunt and kill for the glory of their god, the Scorekeeper. Lean and vicious reptilians, they had a reputation for being effective at what they did and only that.
Urj Grel on the other hand, was not most Trandoshans. She knew that as soon as the door opened and he had to turn sideways just to fit through the door. A door that had been spacious enough for a wookie to step through just an hour before. Of course, she had to remain ever professional despite the incredibly round Trandoshan before her, and she conducted the interview with the same compunction as all others. It had turned out, that Urj had once been a rather prominent chef on Coruscant, among the top echelon serving the wealthy aristocrats small plates that cost a lot of credits. For years he had catered only to those with the finest tastes, and even still there were holoads running for the restaurant he owned in the upper levels. Five gold stars. Five. By all rights, someone of his skill and background should have been anywhere except Anchorage searching for a way out, but things had gone terribly wrong.
It had been difficult to gather the exact details of what had happened, and "Five-Toes" as he had taken to being called, was hesitant to speak of it for reasons beyond her understanding at the time. All she could really find was a closed file provided to her by a rather sketchy Muun, on a massacre in a high-rise. Redactions and Imperial clearance markers littered the file everywhere, but she had found told her just enough. A moff had chosen a particularly noteworthy restaurant near the Senate district, taking along his personal guard of stormtroopers and generally making a nuisance of himself. After the first round of aperitifs, there had been a bit of a disagreement between the human moff and an unspecified chef, where a tense standoff resulted. Everything afterward was purposefully left vague by the Empire, not quite wanting to let out an embarrassing loss of one of their sector moffs and two dozen stormtroopers but Solace was undeterred. Once more sliding some credits to an unsavory information broker, she acquired a copy of the seized security feed and was quite shocked to see what played out before her.
Just as the file said, the moff and his guard had come to the restaurant in the evening looking to partake in what only the powerful could afford. They had run off all the other patrons, two of the stormtroopers brandishing blaster rifles and cajoling the alien staff as they took advantage of their rank with the Empire. Five-Toes, as the owner and head chef intervened before things became violent from the beginning, stepping between the moff and a server that had been slapped by the man, agreeing to serve them as long as they didn't cause any more trouble. From there things had seemed quite tense as he returned to the kitchen, by all Solace could see legitimately putting his heart into making a decent meal for the moff. When he came out with the plates, a brief exchange passed between him and the man once more. This time, things were very different. Where before Five-Toes seemed complacent and intent on keeping things calm, now his body-language spoke of irritation and closing in on the verge of violence. The Imperials didn't seem to see it quite the same, as when he crushed the skull of the moff on the counter instantly killing him, they all looked to be quite shocked. What followed was a display of barbarism that made her rethink her first impressions of the overweight Trandoshan, having never before seen so many beaten so badly with but a dinner plate as a weapon.
While still not entirely sure of the necessity of having a chef on board the Noreaster, she had seen that Five-Toes just like so many had suffered an indecency at the hands of the Empire and seen his life ruined by them. She accepted him onto her crew as one of the first, looking to set out at the end of the month on what would be the first contract of what became the Gray Mariners.
Several years passed, three in total, and many had come and gone since first the mercenary company formed. The Muun information broker had become a more permanent member of the crew, assisting in securing a good number of essential contracts that had allowed them to stay not only successful, but profitable. Solace had her doubts on the intentions of that one, but had also ensured that her contracts with him were long and binding, as she knew better than to simply trust a Muun on his word alone. Others had come along as well to replace some who had either died or gone their separate ways. It had been particularly rough on the more combat-oriented members of the crew, but a familiar face in the form of a fellow Miralukan helped in his own way to stymie the tide of wounded that would have otherwise required her sister's aid. The addition of a former clone trooper nearly ended that particular arrangement, but assurances were made and the two reconciled, or at least made appearances as such for their captain. Her rules had taken shape in those years, working slowly to guide what had started as a rough and tumble gathering of odds and ends into something looking towards professional. Arguments were frequent enough among so many opposed people, that to bar them completely would have been impossible, so with the assistance of some engineers the upper deck cargo hold had been turned into a sparring room. It helped some bit to allow the crew to vent their frustrations, and her to keep her skills sharp though reminders had to be given often to avoid killing each other.
Indeed, things had been going quite well for the Noreaster and her crew. Credits were flowing, jobs were steady and varied to keep them busy, and for the first time in a long while Solace felt as if she had finally secured something for herself and her sister. For her part, things had even stabilized on a personal level. In her travels before she had joked from time to time of a lover in every port, more ready to enjoy what life had to offer without the restrictions of the Jedi Code to dictate what she could and could not do in her personal time. Sure, most often she had an ulterior motive to such things. Working a smuggler for a cut in on some lucrative cargo, teasing information out of someone too interested in her to think straight, and rarely the seduce and assassinate deal. Rarely ever did anyone hold her attention for long enough to be considered anything but a fling, and of them it had been said to be "Just business", leaving behind a couple broken hearts and a lot of bad feelings.
Things took a turn when among the first of her crew introduced a smuggler introduced himself. Jervis Wayland as he had called himself, an entirely too charming man with a record sheet longer than he had any right to. There had been a way in which he simply sauntered into the meeting place, a smirk clear in his confidence that he was assured there was no better pilot than he, that made her more than a little curious. A curiosity that had driven her to delve deep into his background, more so than any other who had come before her in those initial months. She pulled every string she could wrap her fingers around, called in a few favors on some sketchy segments of the man's past and did more than just her due diligence. What she had found was a man who had served as a Republic pilot for a brief and useless career, replaced by clones and then when the Empire took over just a year later told that he simply wasn't eligible for the fighter corps.
It was the story of many who had lived through the change of power. Men and women of skill replaced by clones or droids in the galaxy-spanning war, and then after the dust had settled their former patriotism was rewarded with being called untrustworthy. A good many did exactly as Jervis had done, slunk off to the Outer Rim to turn smuggler, hauler or even the rare pirate from those disenfranchised enough. His reputation had been solid enough, a few marks here and there where he had ran afoul of the Imperials or simply lost the cargo, but it was all what she expected of a grizzled veteran just a few years older than herself and having served through one of the most tumultuous times in the galaxy.
She hired him on as a copilot, knowing that it was a necessity since her sister was less than capable, and he eagerly joined in on the crew among that first batch. Part of her then knew that most of the reason why he had accepted the offer was the implications of his role on the ship, practically at her side at all times while flying. It wasn't entirely intolerable, and as the days turned to weeks, months to years, she grew to like him. Solace had always had a bit of a weak spot when it came to rogues, finding herself drawn to the life out on the rim and those who reveled in it just like her. With him though, every moment she found herself more and more captivated by the man. The crew knew of course, as it was entirely obvious the way the two of them grew closer and closer together with each passing mission, the tone on the ship shifting to something more than just a band of misfits pulled together for a job or two. Ironically, as she looks back on those moments, it was him that really made the Gray Mariners what they are today. It was his jovial way, always quick with a game of cards to lighten the mood, suggestions here and there on how to keep morale up and of course distracting her from the grim reality of what always awaited beyond their ship.
The mood aboard the Noreaster soared for those three initial years, due in part to their personal broker's connections and capability in keeping them employed, and to the growing relationship of their captain with their copilot. Everything was going well for them, for her. It had been months since she consulted her holocron, even thought of taking out her lightsaber for practice and far more importantly, she had felt a shift in her being. Sena had felt it, gently poking at her from time to time on how she had mellowed and seemed as if she was settling down. She knew it too, had felt the subtle draw that kept her more and more on the ship quarter-backing missions instead of leading them. Though neither her or Jervis had ever said it, both knew their feelings for each other. For her part, he was the first in a long while to have inspired such things, and while much of her didn't know exactly how to keep going with that, she knew she had to keep him close while she could.
Yet as the galaxy has proven time and time again, all good things must eventually come to an end. See, Solace never quite developed the skills that others such as her sister and their friend the doctor had cultivated over the long years. She was about as good at reading the auras from people as a non force-user, sometimes feeling out the distinct markers necessary to alert her before a blaster pistol was drawn, or to nudge someone in the right direction, but never the subtle nuances. Things that she herself knew how to hide when it came to others reading her, but not quite how to see it on others. Airus seemed to always feel something off here and there, but Sena knew. Even as she saw her sister growing closer to the copilot, she had sensed something off about him that she couldn't quite place her finger on. It had never been anything too much, more like an oily film settling on the surface of murky water. Neither her or the doctor could see through it with just the few cursory glances and the one time it was insisted to delve deeper Solace had intervened and gave both a firm lecture.
It was ironic how blind she was, someone born without eyes but able to see the entire cosmos shifting around her, and later giving herself cybernetics for a more mundane vision. All she could see when it came to Jervis was the story that she was told, of a man who had more luck and charm than sense most days, but who had won over her heart. There had been sensations here and there though, little tremors in the force when she was with him for long enough, that something wasn't entirely right, but never enough to change her mind. Only once did she feel a pull strong enough that doubt was seeded in her mind. Balmorra, 6BBY.
Rarely ever did the crew go deeper into Imperial space, the mere consideration of increased fleet presence usually being more than enough to dissuade whatever reasoning they might have had. Solace herself had as many reasons as the others to not poke around where they weren't wanted. So it was that when their copilot suggested a trip to Balmorra most of the crew balked. Some outright refused, Clu in particular seeming as if he would rather die than head into what he called a "Rancor's den". Certainly, there was a difference between being disliked by someone and proactively kicking over a hornet's nest. Only in this case, instead of stinging insects they were likely to be swarmed with TIEs. The entire crew seemed to be in agreement, that snooping around an Imperial world was a bad idea, especially a fairly important weapons supplier like Balmorra. Jerivs like all others was allowed his piece, something that their captain had insisted on from the beginning that everyone gets the chance to defend themselves. He explained of a few contacts on the surface, of not just the opportunity to score modern weapons to outfit the company, but also ancient battlefields that had been protected sites by the Republic, but now were left unguarded by the Empire.
For what it was worth, he sold a good job to them and with just a bit of background work on his leads, everything checked out. Despite the dangers implied, the payoff looked good if they could pull it off. Despite that sinking feeling in her gut, that something was wrong, Solace went along with him because all she could see was what was right before her. They went about the mission the smart way, taking roundabout paths to Balmorra to avoid wandering patrols, Sena guiding them through her precognition to prevent any accidental run-ins, and after a couple weeks of taking it careful, they arrived. Balmorra, a planet that had been ever shifting even before the Empire, now doing all it could just to stay relevant. It hit bitterly close to home to most of the crew, a sullen mood settling as they set down outside the major spaceport under cover of a seasonal monsoon and nightfall. Everyone had their own jobs to do, Sharp leading a tactical team to hit some transports, Airus heading into town with Sena to see about a limited resupply, Clu doing what he did best, until it was just Solace and Jervis left alone on the ship.
There was still one last thing to do, something left for just the two of them to handle. Not too far from where they had set down were a few wrecks of old Republic starships that had been shot down during the Hyperspace wars thousands of years ago, protected until that time by the Balmorran Archaeological Commission. Sure, people still got in from time to time to scavenge, and occasionally particular items made their way onto the black markets, but there was the promise of some decent loot to be had with minimal risk. Jervis had a particularly large wreck located already, sighted in from orbit as they came down, and was prepping the speeder bike as she prepared a few supplies. Of course they had talked of a few other planned activities while away from the ship, but just as she was to leave their shared quarters something stopped her. A feeling, an insistence that things were not as they seemed. It was strong enough that even stepping towards the door made her feel uncomfortable, a sense of impending danger that she just couldn't shake off. Only when she made sure to bring along one of her shoto lightsabers did the feeling diminish, though still lingering as the pair made off into the storm to the wastes of Balmorra.
"For what it's worth, at least we're out of the rain."
A drawn out splashing sound announced her straining out her hair, the long locks of red duller in the dim lights of the downed spaceship the two of them now sheltered in. It was a useless endeavor, but her own vanity had shown through as dark-colored lips pulled tight in a smile. She had doubted him in her own way, that such a thing still lingered mostly intact as he insisted, that a Valor-class cruiser wouldn't have been gutted by now by not just scavengers but also the various corporations planetside looking for cheap metal. Yet there they stood, him and that stupid grin he liked to wear when he had shown her up.
"I told you my intel was good. Just look at this thing. I'll bet there's entire decks that haven't been opened in centuries."
"Yeah? And just what do you expect for us to find? Maybe a couple dusty holocrons, some old armor long since past use? Oh! How about some rusted to shit blasters?"
"You laugh, but I promised you a mostly intact old republic cruiser, and look where we're at. Trust me, there will be something in here that will have us set for life."
Something unsettling lingered over her, a strange feeling in the air as Jervis implored her to trust him. It… It didn't feel quite right, and it was more than the feeling of impending danger that yelled out at her to be aware. It was that she was even having that feeling to begin with. They had spent the last three years together, a good part of them intimately and she had never had reason before not to trust him, yet… The weight settling in her jacket sleeve spoke loud enough to that end. Shit, she hadn't even used that lightsaber in maybe a decade, only taking it out to clean it and ensure it was fit for service on that off-chance. Maybe these feelings had been there even then, a gentle insistence in the back of her head telling her to be ready. To expect the worst of a man she had given her best to. No… She waved off a look of concern he gave her and started walking. Lingering trauma from past wars, that's all it was. Before the order fell, the masters had taught of such things. Echoes of pain from years before, sometimes farther back than any thought possible. They called it the dark side, but she knew it for what it was. It was just the force wounded from so much death and destruction.
Her thoughts tried to push it all from her mind, taking any distraction she could to keep her from thinking of the growing unease. Even her sister could feel it, a gentle reassurance from her to let her know she was there. It was a special bit of irony that, and she reached back across their bond to let her know she appreciated it. Jervis talked as he liked to do, showing off his knowledge of little things that didn't matter to anyone but the experts in some field or another and him of course.
"... So, what they did was they started integrating the Jedi more fully into Republic command structure."
"Huh."
"When they did that, the Sith Empire lost dozens of spies before they were able to adapt, and of course they followed suit with their own force-users. It's said on their capital that the reprisals were bloody and thorough, executing not just the spies but anyone that had given them intel."
"Shit, that's a bit excessive, but I suppose par for the course, yeah?"
"It's how their shadow-games worked back then, when the Republic actually did that kind of thing. Every move had a counter-move, and a counter for whatever they expected to counter that ad infinitum. Some historians think that what eventually ended their spy-games was that they started to work against themselves. It's like the Empire now."
That caught her attention, something drawing her to that line of conversation as they walked the corridors and found a stairwell towards the command deck. It felt… Odd, almost out of place and she couldn't quite see why. If only her sister was there, she would know. When convinced of it, or inspired enough she could peel someone's mind like a wet onion, just shear the layers clean off. Few things truly terrified her, one of them being how her sister could do that with the force not just to minds but also starship plating, but also this right now. It was a clenching feeling in the pit of her stomach, a tossing and turning as she felt a shadow clouding over her thoughts and that primal fight or flight instinct starting to kick in.
"There was a point where they weren't even sure who's spies were whose. The Sith, now they thought in simple and easy ways. Anyone suspect ended up summarily executed, stripped of rank and buried so far in their bureaucracy that to this day historians aren't sure of their allegiances either. Republic though, they couldn't do that. Not just because of the Jedi sticking their noses in and trying to give the good talk about mercy and all that, but because it just wasn't their way. So they imprisoned them all and sorted through them as and when they could. A lot of their own patriots ended up cleared of charges, while some actual spies went free."
"And who do you think did it right, Jervis?"
His attention was focused at the moment on splicing a door-panel, the bulkhead leading to the bridge. A couple sparks announced him fucking up a perfect hack, their breath held as red lights flashed overhead and then whatever alarm was supposed to sound died.
"Shit, good thing this cruiser isn't occupied."
"Would have been incredibly embarrassing, to have died to a millenia-old security system."
"That it would, but I think…. Ah! There we are."
A crack sounded as the door prised itself just a couple inches open at first, then the slow wheeze of old machinery doing its best to fulfill its function. The way each side just hung limply in the frame announced that the door was done, now way to seal it back up again even if they wanted to. All around them was the ruins of the downed cruiser's bridge, bodies propped up at their stations where they had died so long ago, most just empty shells of armor or tattered uniforms clinging to husks of dried skin and bones. The viewport was buried in the Balmorran soil, rock piling up at the front of the bridge where it had spilled into the ship. Most of them had probably never even known anything past that moment, when flames spilled into the deck and they came to a mortal stop.
"Anyways."
His voice drew her from those darker thoughts, brushing aside an errant lock of red as she set her pack down at a stairwell and sat before him. He had always struck her as someone fit for greater things, not some freighter jock out in the backwaters doing nothing with his life. Perhaps that had been what drew her to him, why she had brought him on. Nevermind that he was actually better looking than most of the men she had been with, or his way of being able to gently steer the conversation. For all of those thoughts she had winding around her head, they were forced. She was doing anything she could to avoid the gaping chasm at her feet, the terror that threatened to drag her down and swallow her up. Her sister felt it, that fear that she had only felt once before. It was something unique, that she hid with a smile and a forced step towards him.
"I really hope you didn't bring me out all this way just to have a shag on the dusty floor of some ancient cruiser. Because I didn't bring anything for that, and I'm getting the feeling we're not just looting this thing. Otherwise we would be somewhere actually important."
"No Verra, but you're right it's not about the loot either. Well, we can pick some up on the way out."
Something stuck in her chest, a soft and hollow pang as she looked at him not just through her cybernetics but could feel the guilt radiating off him. He had a secret, a serious one for him to use her actual name like that. The only times he had done so was when he needed something important to him, and a few of their more passionate moments. It hurt deep, just the sheer wonder at what could possibly have him feeling this strongly, and how she could even see it on him like this. Lies had never come between them, early on when they decided to be together they both agreed on it. What could it have been? What was there that made him feel like this, and left her eyes starting to water?
"Wh-what did you do? Jervis?"
Emotion painted her voice, a desperation to know intensifying as she stepped forward, now just a couple feet from him. All he did was look to the side, letting out a sigh and starting to explain what she could only feel was something hollow.
"Look, whatever it is we can move past it, alright? You know I've never been a jealous woman, shit you know how I used to be. But that doesn't matter to me, you… You matter to me. We can work it out, if it's another woman I don't mind."
Reason had left her, starting at first to beg, then rationalize with him on something she knew nothing about. Everything that came to mind just spilled out, her fears spurring her on to step closer with tears rolling down her cheeks as she tried desperately to understand. That hollow within her just ate away at everything, her words panicked as he gently hushed her and tried to put his hands up to calm her. Nothing worked, not even her sister's own panic as her and Airus had stepped off the street to try and figure out what was wrong. All they knew is that she was afraid, hurting and nothing made any sense to her. She, the captain of a growing mercenary company whose reputation had spread to dozens of systems. She, the woman who had survived the Jedi Purge through wits and sheer determination, fighting with every fibre of her being to keep her beloved sister safe. She, the one who had built up the idea of the Mariner as a woman who was utterly unshakeable. All of it was crumbling, and without even a reason why until finally she stopped, wiping at her face to try and collect up a measure of her lost dignity and let her lover speak.
"It's complicated Verra, and I know it's going to hurt, which is why I wanted us alone like this. There isn't a woman on the side, as you've always been the one for me, nor is there a hutt tracking me down looking to kill me this time. I promise you, my feelings for you have been genuine the entire time we've been together but-"
"Tell me!"
"I'm Imperial Intelligence."
It felt every bit like she had just been shot. Her heart skipped a beat, chest tightening and in that moment of incomprehension she had forgotten how to breathe. Everything had been built on a lie. Her entire view on life lay shattered at her feet as she struggled to process that one thing. First it was incredulity, that surely she was just having a nightmare and would awaken at any moment. There was no possible way it could be true, that he was one of those people who had been keeping her and her sister on the run for so many years. They had laughed together, loved together… He had adored Sena as if she was his own sister, always so patient and understanding even when other weren't. It was what kept them close, that he seemed so… Perfect. As the impossibility of it all passed, she turned to how it couldn't have been so obvious to her. His records were ideal, not too ideal as to stand out, but just the right amount of dirt and the right amount of need to prove himself. How long… He had been one of the first people on her crew, a bond between them before love. Words came to her from his lips right in front of her, but sounded as if underwater, her body trembling as she came to grips with the sheer scale of betrayal.
"I wanted to tell you earlier, when we… Got close. Verra, you got to understand it was never supposed to be like this. All I was supposed to do was get close enough to you to report your movements. Everything else… I fucked up, I know that, but I... "
"So that's it…"
"No! Look!"
The clattering of his blaster-pistol broke the tense air of the room, swiftly passing to leave only her racking sobs as she stared him down with a mixture of emotions no one ever deserved to feel.
"Everything changed that one year we got together, I knew then I couldn't just keep going on as I was. There was something about you as a person that drew me to you, and not just how fierce of a woman you were. We shared more than just that bed Verra, and you know it deep down. You know how I feel about you, that was never a lie."
He was being honest with her, and it wasn't just that still ever present desire to prove him as a decent person. A clarity to his aura was there like never before, she could read his surface thoughts, his desires and the overwhelming need to prove to her that he was sincere. Everything was focused on her, she could see herself in front of him and how it was breaking him, how it had broken her. Her heart ached with this revelation, but more than that how she still felt the same for him regardless.
"Look, I made a deal with my superior officers."
"What kind of deal?"
"I have a guarantee that neither you or your sister will come to harm if you both come back with me to the Balmorra office. All past crimes forgiven, they'll even make you a cipher agent. We'll have our own ship together and can keep doing this if that's what you want, or you can take a desk job. They know how good you are out here, and that's why they're willing to look the other way on that moff as long as you and Sena join up."
"And my sister? What will happen to her?"
He hesitated, and that was enough that she could feel it once more, that sense of danger creeping up along the back of her neck. Whatever he had to say, it was a lie whether he knew it or not. Sena wouldn't be safe if she went with him, and the doubt in his mind said that he couldn't be sure of that either.
"The… Inquisitorius wants her. They want her to work with them on some project or another, that's all I know but they said she would be well taken care of and treated as someone important to their organization. Look, please just take my hand and let's take this deal. I want both of you to be taken care of, you're the two most important people in my life that I've ever known. You can trust me, I've done everything in my power to ensure this deal is right by both of you."
Solace hesitated then, her emotions a torrent of every feeling all at once. She wanted to scream and shout at him, to call him a traitor, a bastard, and every other foul name she could think of. Others had done far less to her and gotten just that for it, but him… Her trust was shattered. The last three years of her life had been among the best she had since leaving her homeworld, Sena had even told her as much one night as they talked it out as sisters always did. More than that though, was everything she had been looking forward to. Yes, she had been looking forward to so much more past just a mercenary captain and her copilot lover. Thoughts had turned to letting it all go, allowing someone else to take over as she settled down on some rural world somewhere. A life with just the two people she cared about most, and perhaps a few others to come afterwards. For all of that hurt though, all the betrayal that cut down to her very soul, it wasn't what pained her the most.
What truly devastated her, was that in her hesitation, the thoughts of what he had said to her and the feelings of what would come of it, is that she wanted it. Her hand shook as she was tempted to accept his offer, settle into his arms and let him tell her it was all going to be okay. A temptation that she knew deep down would put her sister in the hands of monsters. That thought broke her, that she would even entertain the thought of it. Yet she did. It wasn't just some small part of her either, her feelings for him cut through everything else. She had already forgiven him, though her lips didn't move and she remained still. Solace had already fallen for him over again, seeing the imploring look on his face begging her to just take his hand. Her hand raised up from her side, the familiar weight in it reminding her of everything before that very moment. Flashes of what could have been, what they had shared together went through her mind as just a gentle insistence pulled the lightsaber forward into her hand.
Before either of them knew what happened, before either could react, it was done. The emitter was pressed flush against the center of his chest, a soft hum as a deep blue light bathed the bridge. His voice was pained, a mixture of agony and surprise as he stared into her eyes, seeing her tears as she realized what she had done, and she finally admitted the one thing that she had denied for so long.
"V-verra…"
"I love you."
After Balmorra things were tense for a time, no one quite knowing what had happened except Solace was the only one waiting for them on the ship. Any question of where Jervis was ended with stern warnings against asking, and the few who insisted found violence as their answer. For a good few, they felt as if the crew had lost their soul following their swift departure from the Imperial world back into the Outer Rim. Tempers on the ship were short, with even the better-natured among them finding reasons to snap at anything and everything. It seemed that their captain's mood had infected everyone, even though they rarely saw her outside her quarters or the bridge. Solace delved deep into herself, almost daily speaking to her holocron in the privacy of her room, a dark aura lingering even afterwards that no one could deny.
It wasn't just on the ship however, as for months afterwards the crew took on increasingly violent and less savory jobs. Some came to call it as "The Mariner's Wrath", that short period where the crew of the Noreaster gained a reputation closer to reaver crews than proper mercenaries, and only at the insistence of their broker did it finally end. Fewer and fewer decent paying jobs were coming their way as they had fell upon each of their targets with a fury, something Clu found more than a little troubling, but what truly pounded their desperation home was that it was also getting harder to keep their crew. Half of the original crew remained, they had gone through several pilots through various incident, and the other half were growing increasingly concerned over the state of mind of their captain.
She knew they were right, even if they had no idea the reasons why she had lashed out, and with those few voices remaining insisting that she put an end to her crusade, she finally came out of isolation. It was hard to admit what happened to her sister, even more so that she had kept it from her for so long, but afterwards they simply resolved to look towards the future and build a better one.
So it was that six years after founding the Grey Mariners, though many had come and gone through those years, the Noreaster had become a home to more than just the twins. A loyal crew who had fought and bled together across the entire Outer Rim were there at their side, a family built by experience and taking on the name of their captain as a sort of rallying call. No matter what happened from then, they would sail out into the black resolute and undeterred. So long as the credits were right.
For all those interested, I have posted the link to our Discord, where both this SW RP and my other Fallout RP have discussion groups. Be sure to identify yourself by your forum name for at least the purposes of getting tagged appropriately initially. Aside from that, I'll be reviewing the submitted characters and work on sending feedback where applicable. If there's a preference for private feedback, do be sure to mention otherwise I'll be dropping it here in the thread.
Side note, because I'm a dumb and must have gotten some deckplans mixed up somewhere the armory is actually deck five's cargo space converted to be closed off from the lower decks.
@Alfhedil How big is the ship that this group is the crew of? Are we looking at a Corvette, a cargo freighter, a cruiser...?
Glad you asked, since it has reminded me that I forgot to add in The Noreaster into the characters tab. Our ship is a re-appropriated CR-90 that's seen a few modifications over the years. Namely in the way of turning the forward cargo bay into an armory and training deck.
Though battered and bearing the scars of a dozen conflicts even before it was stolen from the Empire, the Noreaster is a venerable ship that has served her captains well ever since first clearing the docks. Numerous upgrades, retrofits and expansions have been made by the Gray Mariners in order to turn it into less of a warship and more into a home. Primary among them the conversion of the deck three cargo space into an armory and training deck, tweaks to the engines to give a little more power when needed and of course a bit more firepower in the form of a couple extra turbolasers. While it has been turned into a home among the stars for the mercenary band, it remains the brawler though, and none of her crew have forgotten that. Nor have their enemies, for reminders have been given time and time again that while old, the Noreaster is not yet ready to go down.
The following is a loose set of rules for the Noreaster, enforced usually through potential loss of pay or violent ejection from the ship via airlock. Generally speaking, the crew is free to operate aboard the ship with free reign as long as they don't impose on the privacy of their fellow crew, the captain or her sister, and understand where the line is. For those who don't, the short set below makes things clear.
- All crew are equal under the Captain, and all have equal say at the table. Except Five-Toes. You know what you did. - Looting is encouraged on missions unless the contract requests otherwise, however all spoils go to the company first. Crew are allowed to stake claims on a third of assets they loot, to be approved by the quartermaster or captain. The remainder goes to the coffers, stores or the armory where applicable. - All weapons taken from the armory are to be signed out and returned after missions. - Don't accept loan offers from Clu. Or any Muun. - Admiral Piff is not food, nor a pest. Neither is Vi. - The airlock is not sentient. It does not get a name. - No explosives in the armory. This goes especially for you, Kabal. - Holonet access is monitored shipboard after the Balmorra incident. - Training deck hours are from 09:00 shiptime to 18:00. No exceptions. - No disruptors on the training deck, Kabal. - For the last time, people are not loot. The Captain does not care about the stance on slavery within the Empire. - The Navigator is off-limits.
It is an era of strife and tyranny within the galaxy. For sixteen years a new order has slowly been imposing itself over the crumbling remains of democracy. The Empire as it is called, headed by the former Supreme Chancellor employs an iron fist and ruthless propaganda in order to keep control over an increasingly dissatisfied populace. While mere ripples for now, as fewer and fewer senators remain in opposition the shadows stir with rumors of credible dissent. Nowhere is this more prevalent than the Outer Rim. For millennia the region had operated as barely an extension of the Old Republic, belonging to it in name only for many sectors and others less so. Here among the darkened star lanes, at the very edges of the galaxy has many a rebellion been born, and it is here where empires have died.
Within the shadows of Imperial rule people gather to whisper of such things. Some are the expected, troublemakers even under the Republic's more lax view of order in the Outer Rim. Bounty hunters, assassins, smugglers and more besides. They have had the run of the edges of the galaxy for millenia, and while credits still grease the palms of officials everywhere, it is harder to do business when the Empire feels it necessary to exert their will through fleets of starships on patrol. Common scum, criminals and various gangs see this as not just breaking with the tradition of looking the other way, but a threat to their existence. It is not just the scum and villainy though, as citizens of all professions and station feel the boot of the Empire against the backs of their necks. In the dark spaces where once only the more criminal element gathered, now dissent festers and grows.
It is in one of those dark spaces in particular where a gathering of all kinds has come together. For on a planet broken away from its stellar moorings, a great festival is being held. Killers of both the legal and otherwise come to share their stories of the last year, shoulder to shoulder with spice-dealers and smugglers. Traders of every ware chart the dangerous and shifting hyperlanes to the Dark Harbor to buy and sell at Anchorage. A thousand starships from the smallest snub-fighters to relics of bygone eras at high-anchor disgorge their crews to the myriad cantinas to celebrate and prepare for the great game. For it is here that they will find glory, credits and for some a way to escape their troubles, so long as they pay...
Welcome to Star Wars: The Harbor's Due, a roleplay set somewhere beyond the relative comfort and safety that most RPs in the setting enjoy. Your character is not a mighty Jedi Knight combating the evils of the galaxy, or some dashing pilot in the glorious service of the Republic. They may have once been, perhaps even still think they are, but the truth is far simpler. When Obi-Wan warns Luke of Mos Eisley and the people therein, he speaks of us. No matter what they were before, now each and every one of us are the scum and villainy of the galaxy. From bounties to smuggling, kidnapping and even a spot of piracy when the pickings are good, no character among this crew can truly claim to be "good". Some will protest, claiming to be part of The Gray Mariners since they have rules unlike a good many other mercenary groups. Some think this life is only temporary, that when they've made enough credits they can go back to what they were. Others are simply here because to be elsewhere is one step closer to the Empire and either in a cell or dead. No matter the particulars, the party is composed of those on the bad side of the Empire, of one gang or another or simply the law in general.
It is all in search of one singular goal however, that of making credits and occasionally thumbing their nose at those in power. Regardless of when your character has joined the crew, whether part of the original band or fresh meat from Anchorage, they were given a question by the captain. The Mariner herself has asked…
"Who are you?"
Guidelines
With the introductions out of the way, I would like to take a moment to talk about something I feel everyone taking part of the RP should understand. I've been in the game for a while now, a few too many years to count for the sake of my own vanity, but I feel I've a decent enough grasp on what matters. Though looking like a list of rules here below, I want to stress that I consider these more as guidelines and merely what I would prefer people to abide by. I consider myself a fair GM, one that doesn't see themself as "the law" or "god" of the RP, but a fellow player looking to enjoy myself in this shared story as much as the players who have chosen me as GM.
- Firstly and most importantly, I want to address the status of the RP as 18+. This is not an indicator that there will be plentiful explicit scenes, or be used as an excuse for such. I have chosen to list this RP in this way due to where our characters will largely be operating, and the type of characters that will be shown. The Outer Rim is largely a lawless expanse of space, where the Empire has little say despite their best efforts, and this means that as a guarantee the subject matter of the RP will be of a more mature manner. There will be violence, death, drug-use and sensual tones at many points throughout the RP, but I also have an expectation with that in mind. I expect everyone in this RP to be mature enough not only to handle such things, but to go about them with proper restraint.
- Respect and communication. While I personally don't mind a little bit shown my way as the GM, I moreso ask this for your fellow players. We are all building a shared story with our characters, who I hope will be interacting with each other plentifully. To that end, keep your fellow players in mind when posting and planning posts or arcs. Communicate with them if ever there is the possibility of their character being affected by something you have planned.
- Post Requirements. I hate them. No really, I dislike the idea of saying that someone has to post x number of times in a certain period or they're out, and especially despise having to stick to that myself. In my experience, nothing drains the creativity more assuredly than deadlines. As such there isn't one for submitting a character to the RP, and I won't demand of anyone that they keep to a posting schedule. All I ask is that when interacting with other characters, that you not only be respectful as asked above, but also be mindful of your own times of posting.
- Don't be a dick. Really, don't do it. If you do it, I'll have to do it, and I promise you I can be an even bigger one. I prefer to be nice and have a good time, but if you decide not to be nice and to keep other people from having a good time, then I will ruin your time in this RP. jk, I'll just ban you from the thread and have your character trip out an airlock.
Character Creation
No sliders, but there are plenty of options. Seriously, I don't quite like the idea of restricting people to this or that, saying that one thing is completely not allowed under any circumstance or whatever justification other GMs like to use. I've found that on occasion people can surprise me with a character that at first glance should have never been approved, but after a bit of one on one, can be a strong presence in the RP. With a setting as diverse as SW Legends, there are so many possibilities to build off of, so many backgrounds for characters and ways to make something truly unique. To that end, before we get to the character sheet proper and I let you all go to await what wondrous possibilities you provide me with, I do have a few things I would like to comment on regarding characters.
- On the subject of force-sensitives, force-users and former Jedi. They exist in the setting and in this RP. Our captain, my character, is one and I can't really give a hard no to such characters on that principle as well as what was said above. Primarily, that would make me a rather shit GM, and be incredibly unfair. I would only ask that when making a character keep in mind the theme of the RP. Our characters should be drawn from the common criminals, thugs, bounty hunters, smugglers and general scum of the galaxy. This is not an RP following the fall of the Jedi Order, of the plight of the remaining Jedi or the hunt for force-sensitives. At the very least that is how this RP is starting and how I would like to see it go for a good time afterward. This doesn't preclude people from playing former Jedi or force-users in general, but it does mean that when making one to keep in mind the environment they are in. A good portion of the average character our group will be interacting with would eagerly turn such a person in for a reward from the Empire. A force-user as part of this crew would need to have at the very least a way of disguising their abilities and need to be able to rely on other skills.
- Faces/Appearances. As you will note when looking over the CS, there is both a place for a picture and one for a detailed appearance. I would like both done, and encourage everyone to take that as an opportunity to go into greater detail about their characters. More important here, is the subject of pictures used in general. I've become rather partial to face-claims, and especially the use of gifs and such to show how my characters express themselves a little more… Viscerally. This is by no means a requirement for anyone, and I won't refuse a character on the basis of their CS using a particular art style. Just… Keep it presentable. You know what I mean.
- Characters in general. All that said, I would like to say that a well-structured and detailed sheet will always go over better than one that is essentially a somewhat expanded concept. The character sheet below is one adapted from another RP that I happened to like because not only is it innately structured better than something I could do on my own, but provides many places of opportunity for the player to add detail to their character. Just don't get too involved in creating a character that you may not be as enthused to play as the character once it's done. As someone who has done that before, I would hate to see someone put a lot of effort into a well-written character only to dislike it and not want to RP as it.
Finally, the character sheet. You are free to post WiPs in the OOC, and I even encourage it so that we can all work together on things and help to ensure everyone gets as close to the type of character they want to play as possible. Just please do not post your character in the characters tab until approved.
[hider=Character name][[center][h1][color=???]Character name/Title[/color][/h1] [img]Image or gif of character[/img][/center] [color=???][b]|[u] {Full Name} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]???[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Age} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]???[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Species} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]???[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Gender} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Male/Female/Neither[/indent] [.hr] [color=???][b]|[u] {Force Sensitive/Alignment} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Yes/No - Dark/Grey/Light(Can be more specific in the alignment, if not fully in one of the three categories.)[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] Role on Ship [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Your character's role in the mercenary company and/or on the ship in general.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Appearance} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Self-explanatory, cover at least the basics to some detail.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Equipment and Personal Belongings} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]All personal belongings, equipment or items of note that would be either on your character's person on a daily basis or in their quarters. Include as well anything that may be in storage on the Mariner in the cargo bays or the hangar if applicable.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Physical Abilities} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Any and all strictly non-force abilities your character may have. This includes, but is not limited to combat skills, natural ability or learned skills.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Force Abilities} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Strictly force-abilities your character may have. Only include this section if your character is a force-user. Anything that may affect your character's ability to be influenced by the force would fall under the Physical Abilities section or the Limitations section, such as if your character was of a species naturally resistant, or was perhaps more susceptible to the mind trick power.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Limitations} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Any and all limitations that your character may possess.[/indent] [.hr] [color=a187be][b]|[u] {Personality} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]This, along with the Backstory section should be the more detailed areas of the CS.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Place of Origin} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]Quite simply, where your character came from and a brief bit on their upbringing.[/indent] [color=???][b]|[u] {Background} [/u]|[/b][/color] [indent]A history of your character showing important events in their past, and most particularly how they came to be part of the mercenary group and what they've done since joining.[/indent][/hider]
Quest Abandoner,
op2024,
Sir Lurksalot,
Vampire Stepdad,
Lunamaria Hawke,
ScreenAcne,
Apollosarcher,
Sharmat,
avril,
Bugman
