Isolation

Port Kasiya
Kasiya
Caelus System

The vision was peculiar, though the Neti could not place the cause of this feeling.

He appeared to be walking through a forest, the black sky that permanently hung overhead was throwing another thunderstorm at the entire region. Grey trees obscured the horizon as black leaves covered the shaded grey forest floor. The rain streaked in tints of whitish grey through the sky, further obscuring his view. In the distance, barely visible through the trees, black mountains rose up. Along the blackish grey path, the Elder Jedi moved towards the destination the Force seemed to be pulling him towards, a stone castle stood proudly on an overhanging cliff in the distance. Below it, near the river banks, a settlement appeared to spread itself out, small black shapes with windows illuminated white into the darkness showed proof of continued inhabitation. The Neti wondered if they could add a spaceport to that town, and bring the moon back into the Taldryan Republic now that the atmospheric phenomena appeared to be settling. Already, he could feel the Force indicating approval at his idea. It wanted this place to once more be visited?

Old records indicated that before the disaster that altered the moon's climate and rendered it inaccessible to offworlders, Ostara had been fully balanced in the Force. Now however, the castle and the town seemed to exude the same malice, rawness, and deep darkness that seemed to taint the entire moon. The sense that he could not trust anything or anyone again hit against his Force presence. These beings would just as easily kill him as help him, if they thought it would benefit their own desires or ends.

Shrieks and roars echoed behind the Neti as the wind tried to steal away the grey robes that kept the rain and chill off of Ood's person, blackish shadows obscuring many details while the lightning reflected white light off of his grey metal shoulderguards. It seemed the rancor he had avoided earlier was now enjoying its dinner.

As the Neti stopped, the vision slightly wavered while he reached a dark grey hand towards the dark shape of his saber hilt. Sensing more imminent danger, a white blade erupted from the black hilt as another figure in black robes stepped out from behind a large black tree further up along the path. A wave of malice exuded from the expensively clothed figure. This must be someone from the castle.

It was only as the red blade burst forth from the figure's hilt, that the Neti realised the planet appeared to be entirely monochrome, except for the shrieks of the kyber crystal inside that hilt. Was this a consequence of the altered atmosphere? Why was only the saber blade shining out as the only example of colour in the preternatural landscape. A second glance made Ood somewhat curse at his white saber blade, was it only red that was allowed to shine through or was this a feature of kyber sabers and were they alone permitted to break the eerie monochrome Ostara?

As the white and red blades met, the Supreme Chancellor was thrown from his vision and found himself in his private meditation chambers adjoining his office in Port Kasiya. As he gazed out of the window at Ostara, reflecting light and illuminating the Kasiyan night sky, Ood wondered how many more issues would pop up demanding his attention. Slowly rising as he moved towards his office, the Neti Jedi resolved to start preparing another set of orders. It seemed Ostara was going to become an active situation in the near future and it would require resources to be properly handled.

---

The Age Old Question
by
Deeara Roolek

Do you remember the Chyron of old? And I know it’s kinda crazy to think of it as ”of old” already, it's going on only four years since Chancellor Na’trej took office out of nowhere. But this morning, as I watched the first vanguards of the election machines spin up over breakfast, the talking heads dropped one of the all-time classic questions on me. And by extension you. And anyone who listened, really, but who cares about semantics.

So, the question. “Are you better off now than you were before the prior election?” As ancient as democracy. But while I was still mocking it, my mind already wandered, and I found it hard to remember Chyron under Ky’lien. The impressions I’ve got left are... grey-ish and downtrodden. The same grey routine in the same grey environment in the same grey mood. Already reporting on this and that, but always grey. Kind of soulless. I wonder how I remained in the job, but I suspect nobody noticed, caged in their own grey worlds.

So, what changed? I guess the first thing was the Pirate Alliance out of Seijo blockading and invading Chyron. Even just thinking back, I still feel the famine even just thinking about those weeks, the searing hunger, the fatigue, the feeding frenzy whenever food was available. I haven’t seen a lot of old people afterwards.

I started seeing a lot of weapons, though, when Na’trej publicly burned a lot of the relevant restrictions. Recent estimates say that every third adult on Chyron owns and carries at least one blaster. Kriff, I’m no exception. Guess we don’t want to end up on the wrong side of a muzzle ever again. “Shoot first, die second” was nothing but a proverb, until it became common law. It’s still a bit strange to me, although no longer scary. People didn’t use to look at each other a lot, now we make eye contact, exchange greetings, tell us that we’ve got each others’ backs. And there’s a few billion of us, so that feels good.

I also started seeing a lot of green. And yellow, red and purple too. Sure, people had a few potted plants before, some ultrarich even a garden, and there were greenhouses and hydroponics even when I was a kid, but after the blockade, the green exploded. First came greenwalls, then public orchards stretching along promenades and other important passageways, on every level and sublevel. “Life Lines,” we still call them. So many meanings to that. Along with them, Ithorians and Wookiees showed up in numbers. Oh, and Ugnaughts! Don’t forget the Uggs! By all accounts, what they did to the sewage system is nothing short of miraculous, they deserve being remembered along with the other Eco-Architects and engineers. Now you can’t open your eyes without seeing plants. Every home has at the very least a greenwall, your bio trash goes straight into the new ‘ponics, and I would never have expected to look down into the abyss at night and see a glowing forest straight out of some docu-flick about Felucia. And the animals imported along with those forests seem to be thriving too, since people are talking about limited hunting in a few years. My brother’s vibrating in excitement and wants to apply for a permit as soon as he can. You can take the Rodian away from a hunt, but you can’t take the hunt out of a Rodian...

I’ve been touring Chyron a bit lately for my food blog. Who would have thought that this moon would ever create a good chunk of its own food again? We started with stew served in hollow buns and loaves, and branched out from there. Compared to other worlds, we’re apparently really big on making the container part of the meal. I won’t complain, not after the famine. Those extra calories might save lives in the future. Even if I personally don’t like the rice paper wrappers, my greenwall grew enough on the mushed remains that I’ve budded off a second.

Then there’s the trials. Trials by Combat, or by Competition at the very least. Under Na’trej, we can legally settle any matter of issues quickly if we’re willing to publicly put an appropriate amount of skin in the game. Not answering a lawful challenge means defaulting, because not taking the same risk the challenger thinks it’s worth makes you and your claims less valuable. I don’t know what to think about that. If you’ve been following me for a while you know I lost a blue match against my rival blogger Trina in a poetry slam, but I gave almost as good as I got and she had to make a few concessions - had we not battled it out, the issue would never have been resolved and we’d still be in each others’ ways. My brother has fought at least one blue playing hoverdarts, and has mused trying his hand at a purple over the still fictitious hunting permit, should he not be granted one. I hope he reconsiders. The people who fight in purples are either experienced fighters or hired as champions, and injuries are the norm, not exception. It saves years of court battles, but it’s just so violent. Not to mention that whenever you challenge the government, it’s a purple by default and Na’trej himself might represent the law in the octagon if he thinks it’s worth his time. I wouldn’t take that risk. Then there’s the red matches. I’ve only heard murmurs. Family feuds, revenges, executions. They’re always fatal. I don’t want to see one. On another upside though, I’ve never seen politicians so jacked and eager to fulfill their promises. Not being untouchable anymore really did wonders, huh?

Those concessions I mentioned? While Trina won the prime spot for an interview on Kasiya, I got to be hot on her heels and can publish my stuff a week after she does, still weeks ahead of everybody else. So we went to Kasiya! I’m telling you, watching Chyron from above is completely different from archive footage. Only from above you realize how much plant life has taken root in our ferrocrete jungle. Kriff, over at the Exarcology Sector, they’re growing buildings from Wroshyyr trees! As high as any of our towers! Even the Navy has shed their pure white paintjob for light grey with green trimmings in honor of the changes when they rebuilt!

By the way, has anybody signed up for the Navy? From the milbloggers I hear it’s tiny, but fierce, focused on the job of protecting Chyron but with the ability to mount expeditions, whatever that means. They sure looked rather fearless when they sailed to Kasiya to stop their Navy from hitting each other. Or did you sign up with your block militias? Point five percent of all adult Chyronites have, says the Ministry of Defense. Training with their units twice a month. The math must be terrifying for anybody eyeing Chyron for conquest. And the best militiamen supposedly get recruited into the Chyron Legion, a real best-of-the-best scenario I’m told. I wouldn’t know, really. I know that we may need these forces in the future, and I’m glad they’re around, but I’m also happy to know we’re apparently mostly friendly with the Taldryan Republic and they’ve apparently stabilized under their new leader. Guy looks like a tree. Guess for both Chyron and Kasiya, trees are good to have around.

Damn, I’ve been rambling! So yeah, the question: are you better off now than before the prior election? Do you remember the old Chyron? Do you even want to?

I know my answer.

-from the blog of freelance journalist Deeara Roolek, translated from Rodian

---

Fort Malgrim
Elysia
Caelus System

A blast of frigid wind and snow greeted Narman Losa as he pushed open the door to his chambers. Behind him, Commander Slawe hurried in and over to the open window, his footfalls crunching in the thin layer of ice that had accumulated on the floor. While he fought through the wind to get the double-shutters closed and secured, the Vice-Chancellor walked over to his desk and set down the small wooden crate he was carrying with a thud. He removed his coat and carefully placed it on the back of his chair, but refrained from sitting on the ice-coated cushion. Slawe, having finally sealed the window, rushed over to the desk and adjusted his now slightly disheveled uniform.

“Very sorry about that, Governor. These chambers have been unoccupied for quite a fair bit of time. I believe some members of the cleaning crew were not informed of your arrival.” He looked down at the floor as he spoke. “They will be reprimanded at once.” Slawe was clearly a proud man, not just in himself but also his station. Though Fort Malgrim had seen little use recently in its official capacity, every indication showed that it had been run exceptionally well over that period.

“It’s not worthy of a reprimand, Commander.” Narman replied, holding up a hand. “It was my fault for leaving the latch unsecured. I should have known better. But let’s get someone in here to start clearing this ice. And send Captain Pellogin, when she is available.” The Commander nodded and exited the chamber quickly. Narman sighed and looked around the space. It was a functional office, but not necessarily one befitting of a Governor, in his opinion. Though he didn’t anticipate frequent trips to Elysia, it might be better to move his chambers down into Aidos, among the people.

In the far corner of the room, the frost on his bed sparkled in the light. He was so tired. It would be some time before the ice started to melt, no reason to waste it sitting around complaining. In the sea of reports and notices that awaited Narman when he arrived at Fort Malgrim had been an interesting rumor, seemingly unverified despite its value to the Clan. While dealing with his administrative duties he quietly followed up on the claims.

The Vice-Chancellor pulled one of the amethyst kukri from his belt, both ceremonial and practical, and used its blade to pry the lid from the crate. The wood was old and rotted, and immediately splintered into a thousand pieces from the slightest pressure. A cloud of dust erupted from the now unsealed container and Narman instinctively leaned away to avoid it.

The merchant who had sold him this crate seemed trustworthy enough, but one could never be too sure. He had not spent very long in Aidos and the culture of the city was still quite foreign to Narman. For the majority of his time since joining the Republic that he was terrestrial, it was on Kasiya. His sudden promotion to the Vice-Chancellorship gave him the perfect opportunity to tour the rest of Taldryan’s territories and evaluate the areas that most needed attention. That tour had included a trip through a particularly seedy section of Aidos, where he and his guide, Captain Pellogin, had encountered the aforementioned merchant.

Narman dug through the crate methodically. It was packed to the absolute brim with stones of various sizes and shapes, some slightly valuable, but for the most part junk. He was looking for a very specific piece, priceless and powerful. If the information proved to be true, the Supreme Chancellor must be notified. He had originally requested Captain Pellogin specifically to accompany him on his city tour for that reason. She spent much of her youth within Aidos before enlisting in Republic military service, giving her unique insight that Narman assumed - correctly - would be irreplaceable.

The door to his chamber opened once more and Captain Pellogin entered. Her medium length auburn hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, hanging down just over the back of her collar. She had bright blue eyes and pale skin that seemed to be intensified by the arctic environment. She stood at attention with her cap tucked under her arm, waiting to be addressed. After about a minute of silence, she cleared her throat.

“One moment.” Narman replied without looking up. The pile of minerals on his desk had grown so large that it lost stability and tumbled over, scattering a few of the stones onto the icy floor. The Governor’s eyes went wide and he let out an audible gasp, retrieving his hand from the crate and holding a tiny, jagged crystal shard before him. An unrefined kyber crystal shard. Though too small to be of significant use, its existence was promising. Captain Pellogin also looked shocked at first, but her expression quickly shifted to a sly grin.

“Well, Captain, it seems there was indeed some truth to that rumor.” Narman turned the crystal shard in the light, making its refracted blue beam glisten across the icy floor.